^6-8 Stand up, God; pit your holy fury
    against my furious enemies.
Wake up, God. My accusers have packed
    the courtroom; it’s judgment time.
Take your place on the bench, reach for your gavel,
    throw out the false charges against me.
I’m ready, confident in your verdict:
    “Innocent.”

^9-11 Close the book on Evil, God,
    but publish your mandate for us.
You get us ready for life:
    you probe for our soft spots,
    you knock off our rough edges.
And I’m feeling so fit, so safe:
    made right, kept right.
God in solemn honor does things right,
    but his nerves are sandpapered raw.

^11-13 Nobody gets by with anything.
    God is already in action—
Sword honed on his whetstone,
    bow strung, arrow on the string,
Lethal weapons in hand,
    each arrow a flaming missile.