Counterfeiters' Blues

He said drink deeply of the wine, my friend, breathe fully in the smoke
 And eat the fish that he conjured, this is the bread that jesus broke
 This is grape juice and cheap vodka, man, this isn't even wine
 I'm smokin shredded cardboard, eating sawdust baked with lime
 This is not the truth you tell me, but some terrible, evil joke
 Sounds to me like the counterfeit blues have got you by the throat
 There seem to me an awful lot of charltans round here
 And hustlers, cheats and anglers, fixers, sharps and mutineers
 The factory and subterfuge and corporato cheat
 Conspire to fast reduce us to the stamping of our feet
 The lords of mass producto mass product at quite a pace
 It won't be long these counterfeit blues'll run the whole damn place
 These notes that you've been paying with are a little bit too green
 The printing's off, the ink has got a polyester sheen
 Your bill has grown too large and now you'll have to work it off
 And your snout will have to make its way from the far end of the trough
 You got suckered into tryin to make your make your money overnight
 Looks to me like the counterfeit blues will be doggin you all of your life
 The worn out western hat i got no longer smells like horse
 And i can't afford to keep one around now that rooster's gone, of course
 I guess i've left it all behind me now except for when i write
 And sing ancestral praises of the ones who knew that life
 Yes, years of rocka rolla have extracted quite a fee
 Maybe them old counterfeit blues have been creepin up on me