6 so they live in scary ravines,holes in the ground and rocks.
7 Among shrubs, they make sounds like donkeys;they are huddled together under a bush,
8 children of fools and the nameless,whipped out of the land.
9 And now I’m their song;I’m their cliché!
10 They detest me, keep their distance,don’t withhold spit from my face.
11 Because he loosened my bowstring and afflicted me,they throw off restraint in my presence.
12 On the right, upstarts rise and target my feet,build their siege ramps against me,