Frank Sinatra

The world is lyrical, because a miracle has brought my lover to me
Though she's some other place, her face I see
At night I creep in bed, and never sleep in bed
But look above in the air, and to my greatest joy, my love is there
She dances overhead on the ceiling near my bed
In my sight, all through the night
I try to hide in vain underneath my counterpane
But there's my love up there above
I whisper, "Go away, my lover, it's not fair"
But I'm so grateful to discover, that she's still there
I love my ceiling more, since it is a dancing floor, just for my love