I wish you were a book then you'd be always by my side
Not eight hundred miles and a fourteen hour ride
In my hands I'd hold you gently caring ne'er to break your spine
I would gaze on you for hours, every word and every line
My fingers gently brush aside each page as they're read through
As if they were the golden locks that block your eyes from view
Whether saddened or enlightened or made laugh till I'm bright red
You'd become my happy place, hot chocolate and toasted bread
But even though I know books end and some are hardly true
There are books yet to be written
And this time my story's you