I’ve grown accustomed to her face

She almost makes the day begin

I’ve grown accustomed to the tune

She whistles night and noon

Her smiles, her frowns, her ups, her downs

Are second nature to me now

Like breathing out and breathing in

I was serenely independent and content before we met

Surely I could always be that way again and yet

I’ve grown accustomed to her looks

Accustomed to her voice, accustomed to her face

I’ve grown accustomed to her face

She almost makes the day begin

I’ve gotten used to hear her say

“Good morning” every day

Her joys, her woes, her highs, her lows

Are second nature to me now

Like breathing out and breathing in

I’m very grateful she’s a woman

And so easy to forget, rather like a habit

One can always break, and yet

I’ve grown accustomed to the trace

Of something in the air, accustomed to her face