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 got used to hearing 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 so easy to forget

Rather like a habit you can always break and yet,

I've grown accustomed to the trace of

Something in the air accustomed to his... face

Accustomed to his face...