Psalms 12 For the Chief Musician; upon an eight-stringed lyre. A Psalm of David. Help, LORD; for the faithful ceases. For the loyal have vanished from among the descendants of Adam.

NHEB⁽ⁱ⁾ ¹ [For the Chief Musician; upon an eight-stringed lyre. A Psalm of David.] Help, LORD; 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 the LORD 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 the LORD; "I will place in safety the one who longs for it." ⁶ The words of the LORD are flawless words, as silver refined in a clay furnace, purified seven times. ⁷ You, LORD, 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.