Lena Horne — Ive Grown Accustomed to His Face

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