In its broadest sense, this is a song about self-harm. A lyricist worth her salt--and Haines IS--will often write layered verse open to multiple interpretations. Thus, the lyrics include language that is suggestive of various forms of self-injury, such as drug addiction, bulimia, and conformity to the point of self-denial, but can't be reduced to a simple commentary on any one of those things. Instead, "Empty" uses clever metaphors and double entendres to reflect a more general theme about the ways in which hurting people damage themselves.
The interpretation Haines offers, as provided by jomayo112, is both revelatory and deliberately vague. Her exhortation to "not freak out" in the face of uncontrollable, unforeseen events--essentially, to "empty" your mind and live in the moment--certainly explains the almost jaded resignation that permeates lines like "Ask the line on your face/What the line on your hand meant./We couldn't see/What was coming." But, notably, Haines also refuses to be specific about HOW one might "freak out" and what might trigger this kind of episode, leaving the listener to decide whether the singer is suffering from a failed relationship, a band break-up, a drug habit, an eating disorder, or whatever traumatic circumstance you may want to infer. The common thread here is that all of these responses to stress lead to self-inflicted harm, an intentional deadening to emotional pain that leaves one numb or "empty."
Whatever Haines might want us to believe about her life-affirming intentions, this is an unequivocally sad song. Perhaps, in retrospect, having worked through whatever problems inspired it, she can now reinterpret it as a hopeful embrace of the future. But the alternately melancholic and aggressive chords and passive, alienated lyrics do NOT imply that the singer is in a healthy, positive frame of mind. Rather, the song tells the story of a tragic individual who feels that there is "no way out but to give in," who, in fact, "love[s] to give in," denying and betraying herself because it's so much easier than maintaining her physical or emotional integrity. Her gesture of defiance, symbolized by a vigorous shake of the head, is also her coping mechanism–to "empty" herself, to isolate herself (i.e., become an "island"), to "cough up [her] heart" and flush it away like a piece of trash, and to ultimately convince herself that she "never miss[es] it at all." This intentional emotional deadening, this denial of the thoughts and feelings that make her who she is (her "heart"), is the very worst kind of self-harm. Whether she accomplishes this concretely by getting high, throwing up, leaving a boyfriend, caving to peer pressure, or whatnot isn't really the point. The last, haunting strains of music fade away as we contemplate this empty shell of a person. A celebratory song about acceptance it's not! If anything, it's a chilling reminder of the danger of sacrificing the most precious part of ourselves to anyone or anything.
In its broadest sense, this is a song about self-harm. A lyricist worth her salt--and Haines IS--will often write layered verse open to multiple interpretations. Thus, the lyrics include language that is suggestive of various forms of self-injury, such as drug addiction, bulimia, and conformity to the point of self-denial, but can't be reduced to a simple commentary on any one of those things. Instead, "Empty" uses clever metaphors and double entendres to reflect a more general theme about the ways in which hurting people damage themselves.
The interpretation Haines offers, as provided by jomayo112, is both revelatory and deliberately vague. Her exhortation to "not freak out" in the face of uncontrollable, unforeseen events--essentially, to "empty" your mind and live in the moment--certainly explains the almost jaded resignation that permeates lines like "Ask the line on your face/What the line on your hand meant./We couldn't see/What was coming." But, notably, Haines also refuses to be specific about HOW one might "freak out" and what might trigger this kind of episode, leaving the listener to decide whether the singer is suffering from a failed relationship, a band break-up, a drug habit, an eating disorder, or whatever traumatic circumstance you may want to infer. The common thread here is that all of these responses to stress lead to self-inflicted harm, an intentional deadening to emotional pain that leaves one numb or "empty."
Whatever Haines might want us to believe about her life-affirming intentions, this is an unequivocally sad song. Perhaps, in retrospect, having worked through whatever problems inspired it, she can now reinterpret it as a hopeful embrace of the future. But the alternately melancholic and aggressive chords and passive, alienated lyrics do NOT imply that the singer is in a healthy, positive frame of mind. Rather, the song tells the story of a tragic individual who feels that there is "no way out but to give in," who, in fact, "love[s] to give in," denying and betraying herself because it's so much easier than maintaining her physical or emotional integrity. Her gesture of defiance, symbolized by a vigorous shake of the head, is also her coping mechanism–to "empty" herself, to isolate herself (i.e., become an "island"), to "cough up [her] heart" and flush it away like a piece of trash, and to ultimately convince herself that she "never miss[es] it at all." This intentional emotional deadening, this denial of the thoughts and feelings that make her who she is (her "heart"), is the very worst kind of self-harm. Whether she accomplishes this concretely by getting high, throwing up, leaving a boyfriend, caving to peer pressure, or whatnot isn't really the point. The last, haunting strains of music fade away as we contemplate this empty shell of a person. A celebratory song about acceptance it's not! If anything, it's a chilling reminder of the danger of sacrificing the most precious part of ourselves to anyone or anything.