I'm so broke, it makes me sicknI'm using cut up credit cards for guitar picksnSo I'm acting quicknTo earn some cash flow for the master plannSo I got a jobnMaking tacos for the working slobnNow I can't stopn'Cause there's an angel working next to mennAnd things are greatnNothing really matters when you're talking to the taqueria girlnnAnd now within a weeknI've told her about the prophecynShe says to menLet's not wait another afternoonnLet's get a tanknLet's rob a banknLet's go today before they closenLet's get up and let's get up andnBy tomorrow no one knowsnnI go alongnNothing can go wrong when I am talking to the taqueria girlnnNow I'm sitting on the ground downtown at the First National BanknWith a sack of money in my right hand and in my left a hand grenadenBuddy Holly told me just the other daynTo take my songs out on the roadnBut first I got to get paidnnAnd if things go rightnWe'll leave this town with our pockets full tonightnAnd it will be nThe greatest thing that you have ever seennAnd if I failnI'll use my only phone call to be talking to the taqueria girlnI will be talking to the taqueria girl