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The British Museum [Original Song]

The British Museum [Original Song]

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Details

TitleThe British Museum [Original Song]
AuthorIndie Band From Pitcairn
Duration2:31
File FormatMP3 / MP4
Original URL https://youtube.com/watch?v=7WjZ7n4iGjU

Description

The British Museum: Stolen Goods and Scones (Official Song) is a hilariously dark comedy anthem about Britain’s favourite collection of not-so-legally-acquired treasures. It’s satire, it’s silly, it’s suspiciously accurate.

Written while watching paint dry (yes, really), this song dives headfirst into the absurdity of empire, theft, tea, and... scones.

Enjoy the chaos. Share it with your history teacher. Or your local curator.
Either way — everything in this song is probably still on display at the British Museum.

🎵 LYRICS BELOW
📌 Don’t forget to like, comment, and subscribe if you want more musical nonsense from me.

#BritishMuseum #StolenGoodsAndScones #SatireSong #ComedyMusic #ColonialismSatire #TheftNeverLookedSoCivilised

Official lyrics for "The British Museum: Stolen Goods and Scones". A darkly comedic anthem about the empire's favourite collection of stolen property.

Welcome to the British Museum, my dear,
Where history's stolen and conscience is clear!
We’ve got Greece in a case, Egypt in a drawer,
And the bits of Benin that we blasted to floor!

Plunder and pillage, tally-ho!
Ship it to London, put it on show!
If it’s nailed down, pry it free,
It’s culture, old chap, and it's all property!

We borrowed the Buddhas, forgot to return,
Mummified kids, but we’re happy to learn!
Looted by empire, packed up with pride,
Put a plaque on the glass and the guilt goes inside!

Conquest and contracts, flags and guns,
We catalogued trauma and called it “fun!”
Your sacred is ours, it’s just how we play,
It’s preservation, the British way!

Oh yes, we acquired it, old boy, quite legally, through…
cough... brute force, forged treaties, and casual genocide.
Now let’s pop it behind some velvet rope,
So schoolkids can gawk at the bones of your hope.

There’s jewels from the Raj and scrolls from the East,
We took your gods and called it a feast.
From spears to sarcophagi, statues to stones,
We piled them all up like imperial thrones.

Blood on the labels, tea on the tray,
History’s written the British way!
We don’t do returns, refunds, or shame
Just gift shop mugs in your people’s name!

So cheers to the past, all boxed up and neat,
With a guard at the door and lies at your feet.
From cradle to colony, theft was our game...
But don’t be so bitter, we left you our name!

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