I've Grown Accustomed To Her Face - Voice

Damn! Damn! Damn! Damn!
 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 look
 Accustomed to her voice
 Accustomed to her face
 ♪
 "Marry Freddy"
 What an infantile idea. What a heartless, wicked, brainless thing to do
 But she'll regret it, she'll regret it!
 It's doomed before they even take the vow
 I can see her now, Mrs. Freddy Eynsford-Hill
 In a wretched little flat above a store
 I can see her now, not a penny in the till
 And a bill collector beating at the door
 She'll try to teach the things I taught her
 And end up selling flowers instead
 Begging for her bread and water
 While her husband has his breakfast in bed
 In a year, or so, when she's prematurely grey
 And the blossom in her cheek has turned to chalk
 She'll come home, and lo, he'll have upped and run away
 With a social-climbing heiress from New York
 Poor Eliza. How simply frightful!
 How humiliating! How delightful!
 How poignant it'll be on that inevitable night
 When she hammers on my door in tears and rags
 Miserable and lonely, repentant and contrite
 Will I take her in or hurl her to the walls?
 Give her kindness or the treatment she deserves?
 Will I take her back or throw the baggage out?
 But I'm a most forgiving man
 The sort who never could, ever would
 Take a position and staunchly never budge
 A most forgiving man
 But, I shall never take her back
 If she were crawling on her knees
 Let her promise to atone
 Let her shiver, let her moan
 I'll slam the door and let the hell-cat freeze!
 "Marry Freddy"-h a!
 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 habit one can always break
 And yet, I've grown accustomed to the trace
 Of something in the air
 Accustomed to her face