Taqueria Girl Songtext

von Fishboy

I'm so broke it makes me sick.
I used cut up credit cards for guitar picks.
So I'm acting quick,
To earn some cashflow for the master plan
So I got a job,
Making tacos for the working slob.
Now I can't stop,
'cause there's and angel working next to me.

And things are great,
Nothing really matters,
When I'm talking to the taqueria girl.

And, now within a week,
I've told her all about the prophecy.
She says to me,
"lets not wait another afternoon.
Lets get a tank, lets rob a bank.
Lets go today before they close.
Lets get a band, lets get a van
And by tomorrow no one knows."

I go along,
Nothing can go wrong,
When I am talking to the taqueria girl.

Now I'm sitting on the ground downtown at the first national bank,
With a sack of money in my right hand
And in my left, a hand grenade.
Buddy Holly told me
Just the other day
To take my songs out on the road,
But first I gotta get paid.

And if things go right
We'll leave this town with pockets full tonight.
And it will be
The greatest thing that you have ever seen.
And if I fail
I will use my only phone call
To be talking to the taqueria girl. I will be talking to the taqueria girl.