Bones
Emily finchumThey put the bones where they don’t fit, to make one of their own
They’re so set on what they want, the bones aren’t put where they belong
They go and put it on display, and say they're anything but wrong
You took the bones of a tyrannosaurus Rex, and said that it was human
Know it’s needlessly complex
The world is a museum filled with meaningless exhibits
And every gallery and hall is bustling with idiots
You think you're so logical, but you're barely making sense
You can't change what's set in stone, or what inside your head
They dig them up from ruins, of things of long ago
Then they take your words and bury them, six feet down below
They're so set on what they think, they fail their archeology
Instead, they're just hypocrites, who don't make apologies
The world is a museum filled with meaningless exhibits
And every gallery and hall is bustling with idiots
You think you're so logical, but you're barely making sense
You can't change what's set in stone, or what inside your head
There's a fracture in the spine
You’re wrong, victory is mine