SPEECHLESS

Hulvey opens with a plea for the Holy Spirit to speak through him, then spends the verses tracing what that voice has already done. There's a striking image of Moses' face still glowing after encountering God, and a line about walking through waters while heaven follows the sound of that voice — the song treats divine speech as something that rearranges reality. The second verse pivots sharply into a rebuke of church hypocrisy: someone fixating on the offering basket while ignoring a hurting young man who was secretly suicidal, a critique that lands because it's specific rather than abstract. Personal testimony follows — being stayed with when there was nothing to offer, being called by name, shame being killed off. The bridge turns into a repeated, almost chant-like petition: let Your speech drown out every anxious thought, let Your peace rule over fear, let Your Word make chains disappear. The title isn't about being at a loss for words in a bad way; it's the awe of someone who has heard from God and can't manufacture a response big enough. The track ends where it began, asking the Spirit to speak with authority.