Ever had one of those days where you just feel done? Not just tired—worn the hell out. Like, "used up and spit out" levels of tired? Yeah, same here. Honestly, for me, feeling worn out is a good day. At least then I’ve still got something left to feel.
I can’t pinpoint the exact day I started writing about it, or what exactly pushed me to put pen to paper (or fingers to strings), but I do remember the feeling that came with it. That sense that no matter how hard you try—no matter how much heart you put in—it still feels like you’re running on fumes. Like you’re spinning your wheels in the mud, flooring it but going nowhere.
That feeling has been a pretty steady companion throughout my adult life. Honestly, I could make a case for it showing up in my teenage years too. It’s just always kind of been there in the background—this low hum of exhaustion and frustration, like a motor that's always on but never getting traction.
So I wrote a song called "Running on Empty."
Writing it was strangely therapeutic. The lyrics just sort of poured out once I landed on the theme. I didn’t overthink it—I just let it happen. Sometimes, the songs that hit the hardest are the ones that come easiest. It’s like your subconscious finally gets the mic and says, “Alright, let me talk for a minute.”
Musically, I went with a tempo that felt… laid-back, but still had a pulse. Kind of like trudging forward when you’ve got nothing left, but you’re too stubborn to stop. There’s this push-and-pull in the rhythm that mirrors that exact feeling—tired but determined. Heavy-hearted, but still showing up.
And man, this one’s become one of my favorites to play live. There’s a groove to it—a pocket that’s easy to sink into. But more than that, the crowd always gets it. You can see it on their faces, in the way they move. They know that feeling too. We're all out here trying to keep going when we’ve got nothing in the tank.
"Running on Empty" is for anyone who's felt like they’ve given all they’ve got and still come up short. It’s not about having the answers—it’s just about acknowledging that sometimes, just being here is enough.