I've Grown Accustomed to Her Face

I've Grown Accustomed to Her Face - Rex Harrison

Damn Damn Damn Damn

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 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 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 even 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