I've Grown Accustomed to His Face

I've grown accustomed to his face
I've grown accustomed to his looks, accustomed to his voice
His joys, his woes, his highs, his lows

Good morning everyday

I'm very glad he's a man and so easy to forget
Are second nature to me now

I've grown accustomed to the trace of something in the air
His smiles, his frowns, his ups, his downs
I've grown accustomed to the tune
I was serenely independent and content before we met
Like breathing out, breathing in
Accustomed to his face

I've gotten used to hear him say
Surely I could always be that way again and yet
Rather like a habit one can always break and yet
He whistles night and noon
Like breathing out and breathing in
Are second nature to me now
He almost makes the day begin