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

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 looks
Accustomed to his voice
Accustomed to his face

I've grown accustomed to his looks
Accustomed to his voice
Accustomed to his face