121 To the choirmaster: according to The Sheminith. A Psalm of David. Help, Lord; for there is no longer any that is godly; for the faithful have vanished from among the sons of men. 2 Every one utters lies to his neighbor; with flattering lips and a double heart they speak. 3 May the Lord cut off all flattering lips, the tongue that makes great boasts, 4 those who say, "With our tongue we will prevail, our lips are with us; who is our master?" 5 "Because the poor are despoiled, because the needy groan, I will now arise," says the Lord; "I will place him in the safety for which he longs." 6 The promises of the Lord are promises that are pure, silver refined in a furnace on the ground, purified seven times. 7 Do thou, O Lord, protect us, guard us ever from this generation. 8 On every side the wicked prowl, as vileness is exalted among the sons of men.
