Clear my name, God; I've kept an honest shop. I've thrown in my lot with you, God, and I'm not budging.
Examine me, God, from head to foot, order your battery of tests. Make sure I'm fit inside and out
So I never lose sight of your love, But keep in step with you, never missing a beat.
I don't hang out with tricksters, I don't pal around with thugs;
I hate that pack of gangsters, I don't deal with double-dealers.
I scrub my hands with purest soap, then join hands with the others in the great circle, dancing around your altar, God,
Singing God-songs at the top of my lungs, telling God-stories.