Call Him!

Hip-hop, urban futuristic at 142 BPM with a sharp, melodic groove; punchy kick and snare, rolling bass, syncopated electronic percussion, restless synth movement, glitch cuts, tight vocal compression, youthful slightly rough male rap with witty expressive conversational phrasing and natural storytelling flow

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Call him! [STTZ New York 2046]

[Intro]
Saskia called.

Dinner.

She's home again.

Am I going?

Of course I'm going.

Free food.

And I wanna know if she's alright.

[Verse 1]
I'm standing at the mirror scraping off my face,
trying to look human for a change.
No paint on my clothes, no colors in my hair,
almost respectable if you don't look everywhere.

Two shirts somewhere, both overdue for a wash,
so jeans and a hoodie will have to do the job.
She invited me to dinner, not some fancy affair.
Clean clothes are clean clothes. I'll stop right there.

[Chorus]
Call him.
Even if he doesn't call you.

Ask him
how he's doing now.

Tell him
you've been thinking about him.

Someone has to make the first move somehow.

We talk too little
to the people that we love.

We wait too long
for someone else to start.

Call him.

Maybe he's waiting too.

Sometimes one small call
is the hardest thing to do.

[Verse 2]
No car, and Dad's old bike is gathering dust,
so I grab my skateboard because wheels are wheels enough.
Autonomous cars make excellent rides,
no driver getting angry when I hitch along behind.

Pixel waits outside when I reach her door,
good digital wolf, don't walk through the floor.
I even take my dirty boots off like a civilized man.
Got wine instead of flowers tucked under my hand.

Not the cheapest bottle.

See?

I can behave.

[Verse 3]
She's made curry, vegetables, coconut and rice,
first proper meal I've seen in weeks, and damn, it smells nice.
She says she's sorry she couldn't prepare it all,
broken collarbone makes chopping vegetables hard.

"Why apologize? You've got a reason this time.
My parents forgot to spoil me, I'll survive just fine."
Mostly I'm glad she's home and doing alright.

"And maybe stay off hoverboards
for more than one night."

[Chorus]
Call him.
Even if he doesn't call you.

Ask him
how he's doing now.

Tell him
you've been thinking about him.

Someone has to make the first move somehow.

We talk too little
to the people that we love.

We wait too long
for someone else to start.

Call him.

Maybe he's waiting too.

Sometimes one small call
is the hardest thing to do.

[Verse 4]
Dinner turns to talking, talking turns to hours,
somewhere in between I notice all the photographs.
There's that face again, the one she called me by,
the reason I was "Jesse" on that rainy night.

"Nice girl," I joke, but Saskia goes still.
"Jesse," she says quietly. "My child."
Born neither simply daughter nor son,
and she never chose what Jesse should become.

He grew up as a boy, that's how they lived,
but she left him the choice that was always his.
No final answer written into his name.
If one day he chose differently, that would be okay.

Verse 5

[Verse 5]
Then she tells me Jesse left five years ago,
no goodbye that ever really let her let him go.
Five years without seeing him, hearing his voice,
five years wondering if she respected his choice.

"I miss him," she says, and that's where it lands.
Not some story I need to fully understand.
She loves her kid. She hasn't stopped since he left.
And letting go completely isn't something she can yet.

I raise both hands. "Hey, you owe me nothing.
Some things are yours. I don't need everything."
I'm damn good at forgetting, I promise you that.
Not every story ends up painted on a wall.

Pre-Chorus

And while she goes quiet, something comes back to me,
cold coffee, that morning, my own family.
When did I last call Mom just to say hello?
When did I tell Dad I'd come around? Not long ago.

Funny, I was standing there thinking the same damn thing:
how easy "I'll call tomorrow" becomes weeks.
Maybe love doesn't vanish when nobody speaks.
But silence gets heavier the longer you leave it.

[Chorus]
Call him.
Even if he doesn't call you.

Ask him
how he's doing now.

Tell him
you've been thinking about him.

Someone has to make the first move somehow.

We talk too little
to the people that we love.

We wait too long
for someone else to start.

Call him.

Maybe he's waiting too.

Sometimes one small call
is the hardest thing to do.

[Verse 6]
Empty plates, empty bottle, hours disappeared,
time to grab my boots and get myself out of here.
"Thanks for tonight. And yeah, I really mean it.
If you need something, call. And dinner was brilliant."

Pixel's still waiting when I step outside.
Probably deserves a medal for staying put all night.
I turn back once before she closes the door.

There's one thing
I haven't said before.

[Final Chorus]
Call him.
Even if he doesn't call you.

Ask him
how he's doing now.

Tell him
you've been thinking about him.

Someone has to make the first move somehow.

We talk too little
to the people that we love.

And sometimes silence
only keeps us far apart.

Call him.

Maybe he's waiting too.

Don't wait until there's nothing left
but wishing that you had.

[Outro]

"And Saskia?"

She looks back.

"Call him."

5320/7500

------------------------------------------------------------------------------- 🎶 Es gibt da eine deutsche Community für Suno-Artisten... 🎶 🎶 Wir sind die StorytellerZ und Du findest uns im Discord unter: 🎶 👉 https://discord.gg/storytellerz -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- @Meytsch 2026 ------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Call him! [STTZ New York 2046] [Intro] Saskia called. Dinner. She's home again. Am I going? Of course I'm going. Free food. And I wanna know if she's alright. [Verse 1] I'm standing at the mirror scraping off my face, trying to look human for a change. No paint on my clothes, no colors in my hair, almost respectable if you don't look everywhere. Two shirts somewhere, both overdue for a wash, so jeans and a hoodie will have to do the job. She invited me to dinner, not some fancy affair. Clean clothes are clean clothes. I'll stop right there. [Chorus] Call him. Even if he doesn't call you. Ask him how he's doing now. Tell him you've been thinking about him. Someone has to make the first move somehow. We talk too little to the people that we love. We wait too long for someone else to start. Call him. Maybe he's waiting too. Sometimes one small call is the hardest thing to do. [Verse 2] No car, and Dad's old bike is gathering dust, so I grab my skateboard because wheels are wheels enough. Autonomous cars make excellent rides, no driver getting angry when I hitch along behind. Pixel waits outside when I reach her door, good digital wolf, don't walk through the floor. I even take my dirty boots off like a civilized man. Got wine instead of flowers tucked under my hand. Not the cheapest bottle. See? I can behave. [Verse 3] She's made curry, vegetables, coconut and rice, first proper meal I've seen in weeks, and damn, it smells nice. She says she's sorry she couldn't prepare it all, broken collarbone makes chopping vegetables hard. "Why apologize? You've got a reason this time. My parents forgot to spoil me, I'll survive just fine." Mostly I'm glad she's home and doing alright. "And maybe stay off hoverboards for more than one night." [Chorus] Call him. Even if he doesn't call you. Ask him how he's doing now. Tell him you've been thinking about him. Someone has to make the first move somehow. We talk too little to the people that we love. We wait too long for someone else to start. Call him. Maybe he's waiting too. Sometimes one small call is the hardest thing to do. [Verse 4] Dinner turns to talking, talking turns to hours, somewhere in between I notice all the photographs. There's that face again, the one she called me by, the reason I was "Jesse" on that rainy night. "Nice girl," I joke, but Saskia goes still. "Jesse," she says quietly. "My child." Born neither simply daughter nor son, and she never chose what Jesse should become. He grew up as a boy, that's how they lived, but she left him the choice that was always his. No final answer written into his name. If one day he chose differently, that would be okay. Verse 5 [Verse 5] Then she tells me Jesse left five years ago, no goodbye that ever really let her let him go. Five years without seeing him, hearing his voice, five years wondering if she respected his choice. "I miss him," she says, and that's where it lands. Not some story I need to fully understand. She loves her kid. She hasn't stopped since he left. And letting go completely isn't something she can yet. I raise both hands. "Hey, you owe me nothing. Some things are yours. I don't need everything." I'm damn good at forgetting, I promise you that. Not every story ends up painted on a wall. Pre-Chorus And while she goes quiet, something comes back to me, cold coffee, that morning, my own family. When did I last call Mom just to say hello? When did I tell Dad I'd come around? Not long ago. Funny, I was standing there thinking the same damn thing: how easy "I'll call tomorrow" becomes weeks. Maybe love doesn't vanish when nobody speaks. But silence gets heavier the longer you leave it. [Chorus] Call him. Even if he doesn't call you. Ask him how he's doing now. Tell him you've been thinking about him. Someone has to make the first move somehow. We talk too little to the people that we love. We wait too long for someone else to start. Call him. Maybe he's waiting too. Sometimes one small call is the hardest thing to do. [Verse 6] Empty plates, empty bottle, hours disappeared, time to grab my boots and get myself out of here. "Thanks for tonight. And yeah, I really mean it. If you need something, call. And dinner was brilliant." Pixel's still waiting when I step outside. Probably deserves a medal for staying put all night. I turn back once before she closes the door. There's one thing I haven't said before. [Final Chorus] Call him. Even if he doesn't call you. Ask him how he's doing now. Tell him you've been thinking about him. Someone has to make the first move somehow. We talk too little to the people that we love. And sometimes silence only keeps us far apart. Call him. Maybe he's waiting too. Don't wait until there's nothing left but wishing that you had. [Outro] "And Saskia?" She looks back. "Call him."

0/500