I’VE GROWN ACCUSTOMED TO HER FACE

I’VE GROWN ACCUSTOMED TO HER FACE

I’ve grown accustomed to her face
He almost makes the day begin
I’ve grown accustomed to the tune
she whistles night and noon
Her smiles, her frowns
her ups, her downs
are second-natured to me now
like breathing out and breathing in
I was surreally independent and content before we met
Surely I could always be that way again, and yet
I’ve grown accustomed to her looks
accustomed to her voice
accustomed to her face

I’ve grown accustomed to her face
He almost makes the day begin
I’ve gotten used to hear her say
good morning every day
Her joys, her woes
her highs, her lows
are second-natured to me now
like breathing out and breathing in
I’m very grateful she’s a women 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
to her face
to her face

Baseado em (Frederick Loewe / Alan J. Lerner)