This Pain We Feel

Hulvey turns a personal reckoning into a prayer on "This Pain We Feel," naming his own Brunswick, Georgia upbringing and the racial violence he witnessed from the inside. He admits he once sat in church pews nursing anger at the church itself, then pivots to the streets around him: rebel flags on pickup tailgates, the fear that keeps some neighbors from leaving home, the grief of a community waiting on morning. The song's central move is a question turned into petition — maybe the pain we carry is pain God can heal — repeated like a breath rather than a resolution. He refuses to let the moment stay performative, insisting this is more than a verse and chorus, and closes with a spoken prayer for Ahmaud Arbery's family and for Brunswick itself, asking for the kind of love that treats a neighbor as oneself. There's no tidy ending here, just a request for the Holy Spirit to stay present while the mourning continues.