12:1 For the director of music. Upon the sheminith. A psalm of David. Save me, Lord, because the good people are all gone; no true believers are left on earth.
12:2 Everyone lies to his neighbors; they say one thing and mean another.
12:3 The Lord will stop those flattering lips and cut off those bragging tongues.
12:4 They say, “Our tongues will help us win. We can say what we wish; no one is our master.”
12:5 But the Lord says, “I will now rise up, because the poor are being hurt. Because of the moans of the helpless, I will give them the help they want.”
12:6 The Lord’s words are pure, like silver purified by fire, like silver purified seven times over.
12:7 Lord, you will keep us safe; you will always protect us from such people.
12:8 But the wicked are all around us; everyone loves what is wrong.
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