Footpath Republic

by How Scandinavian

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1.

about

The first single taken from How Scandinavian's second album.

credits

released July 24, 2018

All music, lyrics, instruments, lead vocal, production/mixing, and primary recording by Bryan Santizo.

Backing vocals by Aaron Ware, Alex Landaverde, Isabella Pasco, Ilya A Shkipin, Ivan Oliva, Andrew Henry, Michael Praskovich, and Patrick Whipple.

Additional backing vocals recorded by Kasey Fusco at Etc. Audio in Ambridge, PA, Alex Landaverde at El Vago Studios in Burbank, CA, Ilya A Shkipin in Fremont, CA, and Ivan Oliva in Palmdale, CA.

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all rights reserved

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about

How Scandinavian Palmdale, California

Alias of Bryan Santizo, founded in 2008.

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Contact How Scandinavian

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Track Name: Footpath Republic
81, 82, 83, 84, uh
Miles per hour, maybe a foot more
Silently scanning the threshold
For a rogue lane switcher
With a “baby on board” sticker
They disregard
Their entire life
To save some time

Cause it’s of no consequence
Until their charade
Ends up on a TV display
Whether German or American made
A superfluous matter at close range

Well you had too long
Should have taken that left turn now
But better off than on when a passenger on your power trip
Just to realize
A simple matter of fractured pride
Used to be a man of great promise
With family to head home to
Or at least I used to
Yeah

Off the road, back at home
Everyone wants to flagpole their dreams
But abandon ship as it
Slightly careens on the scoreboard
So the narcissists are fed while
All potentials are misled

With notoriety that appears
As soon as the camera clicks
Living in the age
Of flash over substance
They say with these things
There is no proven cause
Well, buddy I clearly saw
An unarmed battle of wits going on

All to arrive, get paid in compliments, perhaps by mistake
So say you like them
A desperate impresser
But not much to show for it

You forgot your place again
With nothing significant to say
And I guess we all knew that before
Now we know what a chore
It can become
To remind you, oh well

Ain’t it funny it is up to me
Isn’t it funny, it means nothing to me
So funny, I’ve fallen asleep
See through the luxury of cynical philistines

Ain’t it funny it is up to me
Isn’t it funny, it means nothing to me
So funny, I’ve fallen asleep
To see the hysterical scramble for relevancy

Ain’t it funny it is up to me
Isn’t it funny, it means nothing to me
So funny, I’ve fallen asleep
To clean up the scum of this everlasting scene