Psalm 115 — Your Hands and Your Feet
A ballad variation, in anapestic metre
The hypocrites pray in the street to be seen;
Their idols are silver and gold.
They’re stubborn and hateful and stuck in their ways;
Their hearts become stone, hard and cold.
They are silent in face of injustice and vice;
They turn a blind eye to abuse;
They turn up their noses at helping the poor;
The chains of the slave they won’t loose.
Oh God, let me act as Your hands and Your feet,
Let me speak with Your words in Your voice,
Let me carry Your love to the lost and alone
That, together we all may rejoice.
You opened the Holy of holies to all:
You sundered the curtain in twain.
You cast out the lenders and thieves from Your House:
Oh God, would You do so again?
The liars and swindlers are trashing the place;
They’ve taken an axe to the root;
They care not for faith or for hope or for love;
Their branches produce zero fruit.
