PSALMS.
Chapter 12.
For the music director. To the Sheminith. A psalm of David. Help, Lord, for all the good people have gone! Those who trust in you have disappeared from among the people on earth. 
Everyone lies to their neighbors. They flatter with nice talk, but they don't mean what they say. 
Stop their flattery, Lord, and silence their boasts— 
these people who say, “We will succeed through what we say; our mouths belong to us. We don't take orders from anyone!” 
“Because of the violence the helpless have suffered, and because of the groans of the poor, I will rise up to defend them,” says the Lord. “I will give them the protection they have been longing for.” 
What the Lord says is trustworthy, as pure as silver refined seven times in a furnace. 
You, Lord will keep the oppressed safe; you will protect us from these kinds of people forever; 
even though the wicked are all around us, and evil is being promoted everywhere. 
