Not for our sake, God, no, not for our sake, but for your name's sake, show your glory. Do it on account of your merciful love, do it on account of your faithful ways.
Do it so none of the nations can say, "Where now, oh where is their God?"
Our God is in heaven doing whatever he wants to do.
Their gods are metal and wood, handmade in a basement shop:
Carved mouths that can't talk, painted eyes that can't see,
Tin ears that can't hear, molded noses that can't smell,
Hands that can't grasp, feet that can't walk or run, throats that never utter a sound.
Those who make them have become just like them, have become just like the gods they trust.