She almost makes the day begin

"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, her 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;
Accustomed to her voice;
Accustomed to her face.

But I'm so used to hear her say
"Good morning" ev'ry 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 habbit
One can always break and yet,
I've grown accustomed to the trace
Of something in the air;
Accustomed to her face.

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