Hang on to Your Id Songtext
von Ron Hawkins

The circus freaks and malcontents
The Trotskyists and the troubadours that I call friends
With sleight of hand or
With tender reticence
Declare their independence

If the minute you′re born
Till the day that you die
Feels like one long, unbroken road
Of compromise
Well there's a detour from this grey path you′re on
You've just got to hang on


While the city slips to sleep so sound, so sound
All the pretty hipsters pull you down, down, down
Say, "there's another shade to paint this town"
Paint this town or burn it down

The hearts on sleeves
And friends on floors
Like casualties make it hard to believe
In the end of the war
But if a dull peace makes you happy kid
You′ll be the first one that it ever did
So don′t let go, no, just hang on to your Id
Jump off and hang on