Psalms 55:1-11

Open your ears, God, to my prayer; don’t pretend you don’t hear me knocking. Come close and whisper your answer. I really need you. I shudder at the mean voice, quail before the evil eye, As they pile on the guilt, stockpile angry slander. My insides are turned inside out; specters of death have me down. I shake with fear, I shudder from head to foot. “Who will give me wings,” I ask— “wings like a dove?” Get me out of here on dove wings; I want some peace and quiet. I want a walk in the country, I want a cabin in the woods. I’m desperate for a change from rage and stormy weather. Come down hard, Lord—slit their tongues. I’m appalled how they’ve split the city Into rival gangs prowling the alleys Day and night spoiling for a fight, trash piled in the streets, Even shopkeepers gouging and cheating in broad daylight.