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When I lie down I say, ‘When shall I rise?’
    But the night is long,
    and I am full of tossing until dawn.(A)
My flesh is clothed with worms and dirt;
    my skin hardens, then breaks out again.
My days are swifter than a weaver’s shuttle
    and come to their end without hope.[a](B)

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Footnotes

  1. 7.6 Or as the thread runs out