1-3. Open your ears, God, to my prayer;don’t pretend you don’t hear me knocking.Come close and whisper your answer.I really need you.I shudder at the mean voice,quail before the evil eye,As they pile on the guilt,stockpile angry slander.
4-8. My insides are turned inside out;specters of death have me down.I shake with fear,I shudder from head to foot.“Who will give me wings,” I ask—“wings like a dove?”Get me out of here on dove wings;I want some peace and quiet.I want a walk in the country,I want a cabin in the woods.I’m desperate for a changefrom rage and stormy weather.
9-11. Come down hard, Lord—slit their tongues.I’m appalled how they’ve split the cityInto rival gangsprowling the alleysDay and night spoiling for a fight,trash piled in the streets,Even shopkeepers gouging and cheatingin broad daylight.
12-14. This isn’t the neighborhood bullymocking me—I could take that.This isn’t a foreign devil spittinginvective—I could tune that out.It’s you! We grew up together!You! My best friend!Those long hours of leisure as we walkedarm in arm, God a third party to our conversation.