Tell me why the nations scheme!
Why do the citizens scam with pride?
kings grip their swords
And committees rally
verses the Lord
and his anointed.
“Splinter their chains,” they say
“And shatter their shackles.”
Laughter bellows from heaven’s throne
The Lord sneering at ants on the floor
Red-faced, he chides them
and they scurry away at his voice
“I’ve stationed my king
On Zion, holy mountain of mine.”
I’ll pass on the Lord’s decree:
He told me “You are my Son
I’ve emerged your Father today.
I’ll make the nations your estate,
earth’s boundaries yours, if you wish.
With an scepter of steel you’ll rule them
Smashing them as pottery dishes.”
Mull it over, you kings
and heed the warning
Serve the Lord with fear
And tremble in rejoicing.
Kiss the Son, appease his anger
Or be laid to ruin along your path.
For his wrath’s smoldering, ready to spark.
Lucky are all who harbor in him.