To give a thing is about as nice as having it at first
The shallow joy of helping out, with which we're gladly cursed
A man on the street, or the whole third world, we'll often spare a dime
But those who need it most of all will end up doing time
There's rules for accepting given aid and what it will allow
But if the point's to give out help, does it really matter how?
If one is to give, then one has to take, it's simple but it's true
And if you really care as much as you say, then does it matter who?
Banks will drop millions a year on children who are in need
But if you're hungry enough to steal a cent, you're punished for your greed
So much is given to so many, it's hard to know who gets what
So what if someone not entitled dips in? - They shouldn't be denied a cut
If you're offering help with a plan in mind, you have to accept how it goes
And if they **** it all away, remember, it's a risk that you chose
You agree to the fact that it might not go well, and so we're here again
Does it matter once you've chosen to help, if it goes to a foe or a friend?
If the initial idea was to help a soul, then be happy just to try
And if a percent or two gets stolen away, you'll have no reason to cry
And with that, I'll be on my way now... As it's almost ten to three
Not gonna' call, sorry I said I would, but hey - At least you're helping me
Another old joke poem written from the point of view of a terrible person using larger-than-life issues to justify their awfulness.
