I've grown accustomed to his face

He almost makes the day begin

I've grown accustomed to the tune

Whistles night and noon

His smiles his frowns

His ups his 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 his look;

Accustomed to his voice;

Accustomed to his face

I've grown accustomed to his face

He almost makes the day begin

I'm got used to hear him say

"Good morning" every day

His joys his woes

His highs his lows

Are second nature to me now;

Like breathing out and breathing in

I'm very grateful he's a man

And he is not easy to forget;

He is rather like a habit

He can always break

And yet

I've grown accustomed to the trace

Of something in the air;

Accustomed

Accustomed to his face