Chorus 2: I’ve grown accustomed to her face
She 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 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