Where The Love Go?

Hulvey turns a pointed question into a mirror, asking "where the love go?" over a hook that repeats until it feels less like a chorus and more like a diagnosis. The verses name the specific ways community breaks down: gossip that runs wild, judgment thrown around like a sport, and the sense that people who should be family are watching each other through a scope instead of reaching out. He refuses a seat at the table if it means looking sideways at everyone else, and instead points upward, asking for the kind of freedom a dove represents. There's confession here too — he admits hating on the people beside him wasn't right and says he had to pray and confess the jealousy he felt. Alongside that honesty, he shouts out the friends who have his back and keeps a Bible on him in case someone needs a message. The song doesn't pretend the tension is resolved; it holds the ache of divided believers next to the determination to keep going harder, stay holy, and trust that God wins in the end even when the drama is loud.