The Charitable and the Miserable

I don't have much to give to this miserable who knocks at my door.
Blessed alms! Bless my alms!
I don't have much to give but i have no need to get.
Comfort myself in this situation. I feel good.
Blessed alms! Bless my alms!
How much i love the miserable who comes to me.
How comfortable it is to give my cynical coins.
I think to myself: Ha, miserable! Would die if not for me.
Thou art there, begging, looking up.
Me here, doing charity, looking down.
Lucky for thou that i'm a nice rich man!
Gave me alms? Well done, i despise thou!
Hate thou, for i bent myself before thou.
I can't give alms as thou doth give.
All my life thou hath done good unto me. Helped me. Warmed me.
Gave me alms? Well done, i despise thou!
Damn alms! Damn fucking alms!
I hate thou because i need, need thine cynical alms.
I despise thou! Hate thou with all my strength!
I despise thou!
If one day (evil as i am) i'm above thou,
Would i lose the opportunity of reaping vengeance of everything thou hath done unto me?
I bent myself. Thou helped me, but i bent myself.
I was starving, and thou, thou sat me at thine table.
But i bent myself.
Oh, how much i love my ingratitude!
Thou gave me what was comfortable in giving,
And what thou would like, what thou'd like me to have.
Now i shall feel comfortable.
What have i always wished upon thou? Only thy suffering!
I was starving, THOU fed me.
I was cold, THOU warmed me.
Annoying THOU, always THOU...