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'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