You can't advocate using a fake ID. Legally, it's identity theft. Morally, it's a misrepresentation. Emotionally, it could be confusing. Who are you really? How old are you really? Are you consistently places where you're not supposed to be? This is, at the very least, disjunctive.
Washington D.C.'s Deleted Scenes are actually more comfortable with lying. In fact, the first lines are "I don't mind you lying to me/If you think you're right/You must be." This is an expression of unquestioning trust in the face of capital L "Lies." But, this analysis of false identification runs deeper than a broken communication stream. Reflecting later, and perhaps a little weakly, "We've all got fake IDs," the implication is our identities are all, at least in part, fictionalized. Sure, it's a little pedantic. But any song about false identification that wasn't a little adolescent wouldn't be doing the job.
Aurally, you're hearing a fuzzy keyboard progression mix up with some Fleet Foxes-style harmony and a thudding kick drum that sounds a million miles away, until the snare snaps close to the ear. Later, a rollicking down-stroke guitar (think, the first two measures of "I'm Not Going To Teach Your Boyfriend...") and the song comes crashing to a spatial finish. It's an ambitious, fuzzed-out project - like an anachronistic fresco or a chalk sidewalk drawing of the "Last Supper." It's art but out of context. It's pretty but it doesn't make great sense. And that's the point - nothing is exactly as it seems. We are all out of place.
Listen :: Deleted Scenes - "Fake IDs"