What Would You Call It?
It’s not the past. It’s the present.
There’s a particular kind of blindness that comes from being too close to the threat—a refusal to see the monster when it wears your neighbor’s face instead of a foreign uniform. What Would You Call It? was born from watching the unthinkable become normal: book bans, jackboots, silence.
We call it “polarization” or “partisan divide.” That’s just fear in a PR suit.
We name tyranny abroad without blinking. But when it shows up here—armed, loud, draped in our own flag—we act like the word’s been erased from our mouths.
This song doesn’t ask. It demands. Stop pretending. Stop softening. Start seeing. While we still can. While we still have breath to name it.
They’re burning ballots in the street
While armed guards watch you mark your sheet
Critics dragged from their beds at dawn
By morning, all trace of them is gone
If this were Tehran or Beijing
You’d know exactly what you’re seeing
What would you call it
When tanks patrol your neighborhood?
What would you call it
When your brother’s face is streaked with blood?
We’d scream its name
If we saw it on a foreign feed
From safer shores, we’d be enraged
So what would you call it
When they’re breaking down your door?
Journalists found face-down in rivers
Judges choking on the words they’re given
Your daughter’s teacher disappeared last night
For reading the wrong damn book in class
And you keep your head down, play pretend
‘Cause you’ve seen what happens to those who don’t bend
What would you call it
When protest ends in unmarked graves?
What would you call it
When your children learn to be afraid?
We’d know its name
If it wore a different flag today
We’d burn the streets if it weren’t ours
So what would you call it
When your kids learn not to speak too loud?
This is the moment empires die
While decent people stand by
First they test how much you’ll take
Then they take until you break
And when the historians write it down
They’ll wonder why we bit our tongues
While we still had breath left in our lungs
Call it what it is
FASCISM — wearing a familiar face
Stop whispering warnings
While they’re torching every trace
Of what we swore we’d never let return
But here it is — we let it burn
The question isn’t what to call it —
It’s whether you’ll fight
Or whether you’ll submit
(Will you fight or will you submit?)
(WILL YOU FIGHT OR WILL YOU SUBMIT?)
