Text: Playing With Matches. Worth Fighting For.

By shot three I've got the fortitude to move past the prelude and explain how this escalates. I left her with an incomplete goodbye, then caught the midnight flight; the chiche' plane that took me away from my baby that night.
It might be naive, cursing the day I left; the day she got fed up and said, If I told you this was foolishness would you throw in the towel tonight? And I shrugged to confess probably and she told me then I was right. She said, I'll say this once more, it's just a waste of time unless it's worth fighting for.
She said 'distance' and 'relationship' in the same sentence, and she could tell I wasn't interested. I was in love enough with myself for the both of us. We beat around the bush as my mouth looked for the proper words to leave.
It might be naive, cursing the day I left; the she got fed up and said, If I told you this was foolishness would you throw in the towel tonight? And I shrugged to confess probably and she told me then I was right. She said, I'll say this once more, it's just a waste of time unless it's worth fighting for.
But by last call I'm irrational, scrolling through my phone trying to find her name. I want to say the things that I don't mean and make promises that I can't keep. The message beeps and I guess I'm....still looking for the proper words to leave.
If I told you this was foolishness would you throw in the towel tonight? And I shrugged to confess probably and she told me then I was right. She said, I'll say this once more, it's just a waste of time unless it's worth fighting for

(Thanks to Tara for these lyrics)