From the album Written into Changes
This is about choosing flight over fight so many times that leaving becomes your only relationship skill. The narrator isn't escaping one bad situation. She's stuck in a loop where every connection ends the same way: her boarding a plane before the argument can start.
Bright lights, big city / Enough a mess to make me dizzy for days
The city isn't making her dizzy. The escape is. She keeps running to new places thinking geography will solve what staying might fix. The repetition of 'days and days and days' stretches time into a blur, like she's already lost track of how long she's been doing this.
White lies of omission / I miss you, but I gotta go
She says 'I miss you' like it's past tense even though she's still here. The white lie isn't what she says. It's that she frames leaving as necessity when it's really preference. 'Gotta go' sounds forced, but she's the one making her own exit.
Wake up far from Heaven / Shanghaied in a monsoon
She describes herself as kidnapped, shanghaied, like someone else did this to her. But nobody dragged her onto that plane. The passive construction hides the active choice. She keeps waking up in disasters she chose.
When you're dead, well / You won't go letting me down
This is the darkest line in the song and she drops it like it's nothing. The only version of this person she can trust is a corpse. She'd rather imagine them dead than risk them disappointing her while alive.
I don't want to fight anymore
The repetition becomes its own kind of fight. She says it eight times in the final chorus like she's trying to convince herself. The phrase stops sounding like peace and starts sounding like surrender to a pattern she can't break.
This is what it sounds like when 'I don't want to fight' stops meaning peace and starts meaning 'I won't be here long enough for us to have the argument.' She keeps moving, but the pattern follows her everywhere. By the end, you can't tell if she's asking for a truce or admitting she'll never stop running.