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I sink in deep mire,
    where there is no foothold;
I have come into deep waters,
    and the flood sweeps over me.(A)
I am weary with my crying;
    my throat is parched.
My eyes grow dim
    with waiting for my God.(B)

More in number than the hairs of my head
    are those who hate me without cause;
many are those who would destroy me,
    my enemies who accuse me falsely.
What I did not steal,
    must I now restore?(C)

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