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.
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.