Search form

Psalm 55:4-8

4-8My 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 change

from rage and stormy weather.

9-11Come down hard, Lord—slit their tongues.

I'm appalled how they've split the city

Into rival gangs

prowling the alleys

Day and night spoiling for a fight,

trash piled in the streets,

Even shopkeepers gouging and cheating

in broad daylight.