Dean Martin — I've grown accustomed to her face

I've grown accustomed to her face

I've grown accustomed to her face
She almost makes the day begin
I've grown accustomed to the tune that
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
 
I've grown accustomed to her face
She almost makes the day begin
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