Stone tools uncover 140,000-year-old human history in the Mongolian Gobi
Researchers investigated a prehistoric lake in the Gobi Desert that held tools, revealing how humans responded to a changing climate.

Verse 1
 Wind in the Gobi, the silence is wide
 Stone in my hand, I feel the tide
 Once was a lake where the rivers ran
 Now only echoes and shifting sand
Chorus
 Stone tells a story, age by age
 Hands of the past still mark the stage
 Dust remembers, wind replies
 We were here beneath these skies
Verse 2
 Fire and water, ice and rain
 People returned and came again
 Followed the herds, the stars for light
 Dreamed of the dawn through endless night
Chorus
 Stone tells a story, age by age
 Hands of the past still mark the stage
 Dust remembers, wind replies
 We were here beneath these skies
Verse 3
 Lakes are gone, but tools remain
 Carved by heart, not made for gain
 Time moves on, but truth stays near
 Their voice in stone—we still can hear
Final Chorus (repeat/fade)
 Stone tells a story, age by age
 Hands of the past still mark the stage
 Dust remembers, wind replies
 We were here beneath these skies



BUY ON BANDCAMP!

Stone Story

On a limestone monument dubbed Foundation Rock, archaeologists have identified a powerful and extremely rare Maya queen who ruled Cobá in the sixth century AD. This discovery illuminates an exciting new chapter in the history of the distinctive city: one of female rule. 


Verse 1
Under the jungle's breath, the limestone waits,
Whispers of queens beneath tangled gates.
Cobá's silence, now broken and clear,
A woman's voice rises through the years.

Chorus
She carved her name in the stone and flame,
Through the roots of time, they still proclaim.
In the dust of gods and the moon's soft gleam,
She reigns eternal in the ancient dream.

Verse 2
Feathered shadows, the temples align,
Stars remember what hands designed.
Her power was written, her blood was law,
A queen among kings that the world never saw.

Chorus
She carved her name in the stone and flame,
Through the roots of time, they still proclaim.
In the dust of gods and the moon's soft gleam,
She reigns eternal in the ancient dream.

Bridge
Lightning through the jungle drum,
Echoes call - the ancients come.
Stone remembers, flesh may fade,
But her will was the world she made.

Chorus (final)
She carved her name in the stone and flame,
Through the roots of time, they still proclaim.
In the dust of gods and the moon's soft gleam,
She reigns eternal in the ancient dream.

Foundation Rock

About 2200 years ago, a wealthy Han soldier was entombed in a hillside grave on the frontier of the expanding Han Dynasty, in what is now western China. His tomb was filled with gold coins and emblazoned with ornate calligraphy. But what most interested Bao Yang at the Chinese Academy of Sciences (CAS) and head of its Tree-Ring Laboratory was the wood of his coffin. 


Verse 1
 Two thousand years beneath the clay,
 A soldier sleeps where breezes play.
 His coins of gold no longer gleam,
 They shimmer softly through a dream.
 The coffin’s wood of juniper fine,
 Still breathes the scent of sun and pine.
 Its rings remember drought and rain,
 Each mark a year of joy or pain.
Chorus
 Han wood, tell your tale again,
 Whisper through the dust and rain.
 Carry the sound of the vanished years,
 Through trembling roots and silent tears.
 Han wood, carved with calligraphed grace,
 Hold the memory, hold his place.
Verse 2
 He rode where grasslands met the sky,
 Guarding the realm where the rivers lie.
 The banners faded, empires turned,
 Still in the earth, his spirit burned.
 The grain of time beneath the ground,
 Holds every echo, every sound.
 Through storm and stillness, frost and flame,
 The tree within the tomb became his name.
Chorus
 Han wood, tell your tale again,
 Whisper through the dust and rain.
 Carry the sound of the vanished years,
 Through trembling roots and silent tears.
 Han wood, carved with calligraphed grace,
 Hold the memory, hold his place.
Bridge
 From mountain mist to scholar’s hand,
 The rings now speak across the land.
 Bao Yang listens, calm and wise,
 Reading time where the soldier lies.
 He counts the years by grain and hue,
 Old storms return, old suns shine through.
 The past and present intertwine,
 In ancient wood, the years align.
Verse 3
 The hills still guard their sleeping guest,
 The west wind hums his song of rest.
 Dynasties rose and faded slow,
 But in his coffin, seasons flow.
 Not just relic, not just bone,
 The tree that held him stands alone.
 Through the ages, quiet and good,
 The soul of time lives in Han wood.
Final Chorus
 Han wood, tell your tale again,
 Whisper through the dust and rain.
 Carry the sound of the vanished years,
 Through trembling roots and silent tears.
 Han wood, carved with calligraphed grace,
 Hold the memory, hold his place.
 Han wood, let your spirit rise,
 Through earth and air, through time and skies.


Han Wood

Told by the Oracle of Delphi • Folk-Rock Opera • Volant Records

A timeless Oracle steps from the smoke of her sacred chamber and opens a vision to those gathered before her—no royal court, no battlefield, but a circle of listeners gripped by her voice. Across the span of twenty songs, she carries them through the life of Alexander the Great, not as a list of deeds, but as a living journey she witnessed in the currents of fate.

She begins in Macedonia, where ambition is born in the shadow of kings and in the fierce devotion of mothers and teachers. She sings of a youth who burns toward destiny, shaped by the tensions of a fractured court and the sudden violence that thrusts him onto the throne.

The Oracle follows him across continents as his armies surge through Asia. Victories rise like pillars of fire—Granicus, Issus, Gaugamela—each a turning in the wheel of fortune. But with every triumph, she unveils the growing weight on his spirit: the unease of his commanders, the strain between old tradition and new vision, and the fragile dreams he tries to forge into a single, unified world.

Her voice darkens as she reaches the cost of glory—betrayals whispered in tents, rebellions coiled in silence, and the shattering grief of losing the companion who steadied his heart. The paths ahead narrow as his empire widens, until even the Oracle’s tone trembles with what she knows must come.

At last, she carries her listeners to Babylon, where the conqueror returns diminished, circled by shadows and sickness. She sings of a man who shaped nations yet could not halt the slow unraveling of mortality. In her final vision, she reveals that every empire—no matter how vast—fades to memory, and only the stories endure.

As her last note falls, the temple grows still. Smoke drifts upward. The vision closes. And the Oracle leaves her audience with a single truth: greatness reshapes the world, but time reshapes greatness.

In the Halls of the Shifting Crown

The Blade That Opened the Crown

The Long Quiet Before Babylon

The Eagle Over Issus

The Sand Took the Last of Their Footsteps

The Silence After the Drumline

Where the Last Flame Settles

Founder of the Cybernetic Fusion™ style, blending ancestral music with electronic rhythms and sounds, creating a future-born dance tradition.

Volant Records is a story-driven label and shared universe: cinematic concept albums, stutter-house, western sagas, haunted pop, and hymn-like instrumentals. Home to Jupiter Morrow, Avaline Ingels, Shadow Face, Buck Ramble, Choralith and more. All Worlds Reserved®.

Popular tracks tagged #ancient history