The Psychedelic Ensemble make a plan golden swords

When your savior doesn't save
And you've got one foot in the grave
You better make a plan
(We better make a plan)
Make a plan
(We better make a plan)
When your savior doesn't rise
And suddenly you recognize it's all just lies
You better make a plan
(We better make a plan)
Make a plan
(We better make a plan)
When your prophet doesn't hear your cries
And all at once you surmise it's all just lies
You better make a plan
We better make a plan
We better make a plan
When your prophet doesn't prophesize
And suddenly you recognize it's all just lies
You better make a plan
We better make a plan
We better make a plan
What plan, I ask, could lead to saving you?
Without a single sword what can we do?
We shall rise and set their wrong to right
So tonight we shall rise and fight
Fear not, people, this is not our end
On our Golden King you'll see we can depend
Melt the King and from his golden blood we'll mould
Swords we'll fashion from his gold!