Psalms.
Chapter 58.
For the choirmaster. To the tune of “Do Not Destroy.” A Miktam of David. Do you indeed speak justly, O rulers? Do you judge uprightly, O sons of men? 
No, in your hearts you devise injustice; with your hands you mete out violence on the earth. 
The wicked are estranged from the womb; the liars go astray from birth. 
Their venom is like the venom of a snake, like a cobra that shuts its ears, 
refusing to hear the tune of the charmer who skillfully weaves his spell. 
O God, shatter their teeth in their mouths; O LORD, tear out the fangs of the lions. 
May they vanish like water that runs off; when they draw the bow, may their arrows be blunted. 
Like a slug that dissolves in its slime, like a woman’s stillborn child, may they never see the sun. 
Before your pots can feel the burning thorns— whether green or dry— He will sweep them away. 
The righteous will rejoice when they see they are avenged; they will wash their feet in the blood of the wicked. 
Then men will say, “There is surely a reward for the righteous! There is surely a God who judges the earth!” 
