IN MY MUSEUM
 
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I've collected curios since the day that I was three
Oh you ought to come and see them all they're wonderful to see
I've this and that, and that and this, all culled from near and far
A warming pan from the vatican, a Wilkie Bard cigar.

Curios, curios, where I find 'em no one knows
But I want you all to come along and see 'em

I've a portrait of a servant who refused an evening out
With a lady who admitted that she might be getting stout
I've a shilling that a Scotsman gave a waiter for a tip
I've a bit of Adam's apple and I've also got the pip
I've got the pen that Bacon used in writing Shakespeare's plays
I've Nero's fiddle and a pair of Cleopatra's gloves
And they are all in my museum.

I've got Mary Pickford's smile, and the first Marconi share
The straw that broke the camel's back, and a lock of Hall Kane's hair
The pound of flesh that Shylock missed, a cast of Trilby's feet
And a piece of cheese that Rameses the Great refused to eat.

Curios, curios, where I find 'em no one knows
But I want you all to come along and see 'em

I've an eyelash from an actress never taken out to sup
And a puff of wind that wouldn't blow when Lipton lost the cup
I've a collar of King John that he recovered from the Wash
And a cabman's whip whose owner's favorite drink was lemon squash
I've the whistle of a railway guard contented with his screw
And the hat that Winston Churchill is so fond of talikng through
And they are all in my museum.

I've got Milton's razor strop, and the skull of Jonah's whale
A collar stud you cannot lose, and Hamlet's big toe-nail
I've the nib that Jim the penman used when first he tried to forge
A Hot Cross bun of Napoleon, the halo of Lloyd George.

Curios, curios, where I find 'em no one knows
But I want you all to come along and see 'em

I've the shoes that Nelson's signal wore, when 'down the line it ran'
And I've got a spot that's from the reputation of Queen Anne
The fringe-net of a servant who was never in the park
And a soldier's cap who simply hated spooning in the dark
I've got a reputation Mrs Grundy couldn't peck
I've the whiskers of a Bolshevik who liked to wash his neck
And they are all in my museum.

 
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Written and composed by Clifford E. Grey & T.C. Sterndale Bennett - 1914
Performed by T.C. Sterndale Bennett (1882-1944)
From monologues.co.uk Music Hall Lyrics Collection
 
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