Otherside

Hulvey's "Otherside" opens with a declaration of resolve — a life lived like it's the only night, and a decision to stop running from what haunts him. The hook's repeated "keep climbing" becomes a mantra for pressing through, anchored by the image of having glimpsed the other side of the mountain. The verses root that spiritual resolve in concrete experience: a mother's tearful phone call, a move to Atlanta, childhood memories of being cut from the team and booted in kickball, and the weight that once sat heavy on his chest. Faith, he insists, is something to invest, not just profess. The song turns outward in its final verse, naming Ahmaud and the ache of a country where freedom isn't promised to everyone, asking hard questions about a system that withholds love and a world that looks away when a Black person dies. Rather than retreating into private devotion, the track holds personal surrender and public lament together — the same God who carries the key to freedom is the one he asks to keep everyone alive. It's a song about choosing where to turn in the rain, and refusing to let go of hope.