For the director of music. According to sheminith.
A psalm of David.
Help, Lord, for the godly are no more;
the faithful have vanished from among men.
Everyone lies to their neighbor;
their flattering lips speak with deception.
May the Lord cut off all flattering lips and
every boastful tongue that says,
“We will triumph with our tongues;
we own our lips—who is our master?”
“Because of the oppression of the weak and
the groaning of the needy, I will now arise,”
says the Lord. “I will protect them from those
who malign them.”
And the words of the Lord are flawless,
like silver refined in a furnace of clay,
purified seven times.
O Lord, you will keep us safe and protect us
from such people forever.
The wicked freely strut about
when what is vile is honored