A Prayer for Help against the Wicked
12 1 Quick, God, I need your helping hand! The last decent person just went down, All the friends I depended on gone. 2 Everyone talks in lie language; Lies slide off their oily lips. They doubletalk with forked tongues. 3 Slice their lips off their faces! Pull The braggart tongues from their mouths! 4 I'm tired of hearing, "We can talk anyone into anything! Our lips manage the world." 5 Into the hovels of the poor, Into the dark streets where the homeless groan, God speaks: "I've had enough; I'm on my way To heal the ache in the heart of the wretched." 6 God's words are pure words, Pure silver words refined seven times In the fires of his word-kiln, Pure on earth as well as in heaven. 7 God, keep us safe from their lies, From the wicked who stalk us with lies, 8 From the wicked who collect honors For their wonderful lies.