Psalms 12

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

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

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

4 who 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 YHWH; "I will place in safety the one who longs for it."

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

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

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