A bad man's running his mouth,
talking of God and all sorts of things,
saying justice comes to tear down
all the sins and evils of this world,
claims he knows it,
oh, he knows it,
he claims he'd bring down
all those wretched souls
and hand them some accountability;
ah yes, a bad man's running,
running away,
jumping through hoops
trying so **** hard to hide
from justice,
mmhm,
cause a bad man's running his mouth,
running away from the wrongs he condemned
mere hours ago,
talking about how much he hates
a man like that,
a man like him,
and how much he'd love to show them,
show them,
show them how to be a bad man like him
and masquerade as equity and virtue,
talk a load of croc and take the plunge
with a face so unlike
these marauders,
or so he says,
he always says,
always littering the world with his voice,
his mumbled, garbled,
running mouth;
he wants to tell you
that he'd take his knife to a man
who dared to try you,
feel you,
oh, he says,
as he takes what he wants on his own.

A bad man's running,
running amock in this silent town,
disregarding good deeds,
taking it upon himself
to play the Janus.