[Intro] Alright, listen up. Here's the plan— [Verse 1] Formation zero-five-thirty, Full gear, ready to go. Weapons drawn by zero-six, Transportation at the road. Chow before you step outside, Be prepared to move out fast— Then Gunny walks around the corner: “BELAY MY FUCKING LAST.” Formation's now at zero-six. Leave your rifles in the racks. Grab your packs but lose the flaks— Wait. PUT THE FUCKING FLAKS BACK. Transportation's running late, So we're stepping off instead— Then a Corporal comes sprinting: “HOLD UP! BUSES ARE AHEAD!” [Chorus] CHANGE OF PLANS! BELAY MY FUCKING LAST! Everything we just got told Is officially in the past! Grab your gear! Drop your gear! Nobody fucking ask! If you think you know what's happening— BELAY YOUR FUCKING LAST! [Verse 2] Get your rifles from the armory! No, we're doing classroom first. Bring your notebooks, leave your helmets— Actually... THAT JUST GOT REVERSED. Staff Sarge says we're eating chow. Lieutenant says we're not. Gunny says we're leaving now. THE DRIVER SAYS WE'RE FUCKING NOT. Word comes down we're staying local. Five minutes later, field. Pack for three days— Make it seven. BRING EVERYTHING YOU'RE FUCKING ISSUED. Sleeping system! Water source! Gas mask! E-tool! Extra socks! Some Lance Corporal raises his hand: “Gunny... what exactly are we doing?” ... “DON'T FUCKING WORRY ABOUT IT.” [Chorus] CHANGE OF PLANS! BELAY MY FUCKING LAST! Everything we just got told Is officially in the past! Grab your gear! Drop your gear! Nobody fucking ask! If you think you know what's happening— BELAY YOUR FUCKING LAST! [Verse 3] Now we're standing by for word, Which means nobody fucking knows. We've unpacked and packed our gear So many times it folds itself. First Sarge heard we're leaving. Staff Sarge heard we're staying. Lieutenant's got the old plan. THE LANCE COOLIE'S GOT THE NEW ONE. Nobody knows who told him. Nobody knows from where. But somehow that motherfucker Knew the buses weren't even there. Then the radio starts screaming. Gunny listens, shakes his head. Everybody stops and watches— “Alright, Devils... NEW PLAN INSTEAD.” [Chorus] CHANGE OF PLANS! BELAY MY FUCKING LAST! Everything we just got told Is officially in the past! Grab your gear! Drop your gear! Nobody fucking ask! If you think you know what's happening— BELAY YOUR FUCKING LAST! [Theatrical Detour – Piano & Strings] Maybe somewhere there's a unit Where the schedule stays the same, Where transportation shows up At the time beside its name. Where the word comes down just one time, And everybody understands. Where a Marine can close his eyes And trust there really is a plan. Maybe somewhere in the distance There's a better promised land... Maybe someday we could— [Full Band Slams Back] BELAY MY FUCKING LAST! [Verse 4] Now it's seventeen-thirty. We ain't gone a fucking place. We've spent twelve hours getting ready For a mission we erased. Never fired a single rifle. Never made it through the gate. But somehow we're exhausted FROM FUCKING HURRYING UP TO WAIT. Gunny calls us into formation. Finally, liberty at last. Everybody grabs their shit— Then we hear: “Not so fast.” There's a message from the Captain. One more update just came through. Every Marine looks at each other. WHAT THE FUCK DID THEY CHANGE NOW?! [Final Chorus] CHANGE OF PLANS! BELAY MY FUCKING LAST! Everything we did today Apparently don't mean jack! Grab your gear! Drop your gear! Put that fucking gear right back! If somebody says, “Here's the plan”— DON'T BELIEVE THEIR FUCKING ASS! CHANGE OF PLANS! Nobody understands! We don't know where we're going! We don't know when it began! But we're ready for whatever— Just tell us where to fucking stand! [Music Abruptly Stops] “Alright, listen up.” ... “There's been a change of plans.” [Groans] “So what's the plan, Gunny?” ... “Stand by.” [Pause] **...FUCK.**
