1
Clear my name, God; stick up for me against these loveless, immoral people.
Get me out of here, away
from these lying degenerates.
I counted on you, God.
Why did you walk out on me?
Why am I pacing the floor, wringing my hands
over these outrageous people?
3
Give me your lantern and compass,
give me a map,
So I can find my way to the sacred mountain,
to the place of your presence,
To enter the place of worship,
meet my exuberant God,
Sing my thanks with a harp,
magnificent God, my God.
5
Why are you down in the dumps, dear soul?
Why are you crying the blues?
Fix my eyes on God -
soon I'll be praising again.
He puts a smile on my face.
He's my God.