A quiet confession about heartbreak and endurance, where sorrow returns not as a surprise, but as a familiar companion on the long road of emotional survival.
Released in 1977, “Here Come Those Tears Again” arrived during a defining moment in Jackson Browne’s career. The song appears on his landmark album Running on Empty, a record that blurred the line between studio polish and life lived on the road. Upon its release as a single, the song reached No. 23 on the Billboard Hot 100, a respectable and telling position: not a chart-dominating anthem, but a deeply felt piece that resonated steadily, especially with listeners who had already learned that some songs are meant to be lived with, not merely consumed.
“Here Come Those Tears Again” was co-written by Jackson Browne and Lowell George of Little Feat, and that collaboration matters. George’s influence can be felt in the song’s gentle groove and emotional restraint. This is not a dramatic breakup song, nor a plea for reconciliation. Instead, it is a quiet acknowledgment of emotional recurrence—the way heartbreak, once experienced, never truly leaves us. It simply waits, returning in moments of reflection, memory, or fatigue.
Musically, the song is deceptively simple. Its warm piano lines and soft rhythmic pulse carry a sense of calm acceptance. The backing vocals—provided by members of Eagles, including Glenn Frey and Don Henley—add a subtle communal warmth, as if the narrator is not alone in this experience. This collective presence reinforces one of the song’s central ideas: sorrow is deeply personal, yet universally shared.
Lyrically, Browne does something remarkable. He avoids bitterness. There is no accusation, no dramatic unraveling. Instead, the song opens its arms to vulnerability. The tears are not fought or denied. They are recognized. They “come again,” not because the pain is fresh, but because it has never fully healed—and perhaps never will. In this way, the song speaks to emotional maturity. It understands that love leaves marks, and those marks are part of being fully alive.
Within the context of Running on Empty, the song holds a special place. The album itself was recorded largely on tour—in hotel rooms, backstage areas, and moving buses—capturing the exhaustion and introspection of a life constantly in motion. “Here Come Those Tears Again” feels like a pause during that movement. A moment alone, late at night, when the noise fades and memory takes over. It mirrors the emotional weariness of the road, not just physical travel, but the inner journey that never stops.
What gives the song its lasting power is its honesty. Browne does not promise healing. He does not suggest closure. Instead, he offers recognition. For many listeners, that recognition is enough. It validates experiences that are rarely spoken aloud: the quiet relapses into sadness, the sudden swell of emotion long after a relationship has ended, the understanding that strength does not mean the absence of tears.
Over time, “Here Come Those Tears Again” has become one of those songs that deepens with age. Its meaning evolves as the listener does. What may once have sounded like a simple breakup reflection gradually reveals itself as a meditation on memory, endurance, and emotional truth. It reminds us that life does not move in straight lines. Feelings return. Grief echoes. Love lingers.
In the vast catalog of Jackson Browne, this song stands as a testament to his greatest strength: the ability to articulate inner life with compassion and restraint. Not every song needs to shout to be heard. Some simply sit beside us, quietly, waiting for the moment when we are ready to listen—and when we do, they feel less like music, and more like understanding.