Frederick Loewe
I’ve Grown Accustomed To Her Face
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 and 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
Accustomеd to her voice
Accustomed to hеr face

Her joys, her woes
Her highs and lows
Are second nature to me now
Like breathing out and breathing in
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