In my room there is a double bed, in the place I’ve made my stay;
And on one pillow sits a book, where your head should lay.
As the light dims down low, in I tuck my feet;
And I stare at the empty space, where our noses would meet.
I think about you now and then, when you get in my head;
And at those times, I lie and wish, you were that book instead.