I've grown accustomed to his face.

He almost makes the day begin.

I've grown accustomed to the tune.

He whistles night and noon.

He smiles, he frowns.

His ups and downs are second nature to me now.

Like breathing out, breathing in.

I was serenely independent and content before we met.

Surely I could always be that way again.

Yet I've grown accustomed to his voice.

Accustomed to his looks.

Oh, oh, oh, oh, I've grown accustomed

to the tune he whistles night and noon. He smiles, he frowns, his ups and downs are

second nature to me now. Like breathing out, breathing in, I was serenely

independent and content before we met. Surely I could always be that way again