1[For the Chief Musician; upon an eight-stringed lyre. A Psalm of David.] Help, LORD; for the faithful ceases. For the loyal have vanished from among the descendants of Adam.

2Everyone lies to his neighbor. They speak with flattering lips, and with a double heart.

3May the LORD cut off all flattering lips, and the tongue that boasts,

4who have said, "With our tongue we will prevail. Our lips are our own. Who is lord over us?"

5"Because of the oppression of the weak and because of the groaning of the needy, I will now arise," says the LORD; "I will place in safety the one who longs for it."

6The words of the LORD are flawless words, as silver refined in a clay furnace, purified seven times.

7You, LORD, will protect us. You will guard us from this generation forever.

8The wicked walk on every side, when what is vile is exalted among the descendants of Adam.