| I cut my nails to the quick | |
| But still i was caught with my hand in the till | |
| Red-handed. | |
| Give me something, | |
| Give me anything | |
| The threat of everything is when it becomes nothing at all | |
| Fingers reaching, trophy swelling | |
| That's when desire trips me up. | |
| Got a new technique money let's the pieces fit where they fall. | |
| Privilege - it sanctions everything. | |
| Security - a net under it all. | |
| My fingers reaching, the trophy swelling | |
| That's when desire trips me up. | |
| I cut my nails to the quick | |
| But still | |
| I was caught with my hand in the till. | |
| Red-handed |
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