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I am weary with crying out;
    my throat is parched.
My eyes fail,
    from looking for my God.(A)
More numerous than the hairs of my head
    are those who hate me without cause.(B)
Those who would destroy me are mighty,
    my enemies without reason.
Must I now restore
    what I did not steal?[a]

II

God, you know my folly;
    my faults are not hidden from you.

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Footnotes

  1. 69:5 What I did not steal: the psalmist, falsely accused of theft, is being forced to make restitution.