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Look up at the tops of the hills.
    You have loved other gods on all of them!
You sat by the side of the road,
    and you waited for a lover to come.
Like a robber, you waited to catch men
    so that you could sleep with them.
You have not been faithful to me,
    but you have looked for other gods, like a prostitute.
The wicked things that you have done
    have made the land unclean.
That is why I have not sent any rain on your land.
    Even the spring rains have not come.
But you still live like a proud prostitute.

You refuse to be ashamed of what you have done.

You still call me your Father.
You say, “You have always been my friend.
    You have loved me all my life.

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