I've Grown Accustomed To Her Face
Bing Crosby Lyrics


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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. 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 gray,
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, never would,
Take a position and staunchly never budge.
A most forgiving man.

But I shall never take 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, ha!

But I'm so used to hear her day,
"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.

Overall Meaning

The song "I've Grown Accustomed To Her Face" is a poignant, yet slightly conflicted tune that is very clearly sung by a man whose heart has been captured by a woman he never thought he would need. The opening lines, "Damn! Damn! Damn! Damn! I've grown accustomed to her face," point to a sense of annoyance that he cannot shake off the woman, but the following lines suggest that he has warmed to her presence despite these early feelings. The woman is such a part of his life that she even "almost makes the day begin," which shows how much she has become a fixture. The description of her tune and whistling show that her presence in his life is not just physical, but also aural.


Line by Line Meaning

Damn! Damn! Damn! Damn!
Expressing frustration and disbelief that the singer has grown so accustomed to the subject's presence in their life.


I've grown accustomed to her face.
The singer has become used to seeing the subject's face and now feels strange when they are not there.


She almost makes the day begin.
The subject brings joy and energy to the singer's life, making everyday tasks more pleasant.


I've grown accustomed to the tune That she whistles night and noon.
The subject's habits and routines have become familiar to the artist and provide comfort and consistency.


Her smiles, her frowns, Her ups, her downs Are second nature to me now, Like breathing out and breathing in.
The artist has become so accustomed to the subject's emotions and moods that they feel natural and effortless to understand.


I was serenely independent And content before we met. Surely I could always be that way again - and yet,
The singer was previously happy with their life before the subject entered it and is aware that they could theoretically be happy again without them.


Accustomed to her look, Accustomed to her voice, Accustomed to her face.
The subject's physical and vocal characteristics have become familiar and comforting to the singer.


What an infantile idea. What a heartless, Wicked, brainless thing to do. But she'll regret it. It's Doomed before they even take the vow.
The artist does not approve of the idea of the subject marrying someone else and believes that it will not end well.


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.
The artist predicts a bleak future for the subject if she marries Freddy, with poverty and debt as likely outcomes.


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.
The artist believes that the subject will try to teach her new husband the lessons and skills she learned from the artist, but will ultimately be unsuccessful and left in an unfair situation.


In a year or so, when she's prematurely gray, 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.
The singer predicts that the subject's husband will leave her for another woman who is more socially desirable, making the subject's situation even worse.


Poor Eliza. How simply frightful! How humiliating! How delightful!
The artist acknowledges the sadness and shame of the subject's situation, but also takes perverse pleasure in the thought of her suffering.


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?
The singer imagines a future where the subject comes back to them, possibly in a desperate state, and wonders whether they will show mercy or anger.


Give her kindness or the treatment she deserves? Will I take her back or throw the baggage out?
The singer debates whether they should be forgiving or vengeful towards the subject if the subject were to return to them.


But, I'm a most forgiving man, The sort who never could, never would, Take a position and staunchly never budge. A most forgiving man.
The singer sees themselves as a forgiving person, but also acknowledges that they have a tendency to stay stuck in their ways.


But I shall never take 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!
Despite considering themselves forgiving, the artist admits that there are some things the subject could do that would make forgiveness impossible.


Marry Freddy, ha!
The artist is sarcastic and dismissive of the idea of the subject marrying Freddy.


But I'm so used to hear her day, '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.
The singer reflects on how accustomed they have become to the subject's presence in their day-to-day life.


I'm very grateful she's a woman, And so easy to forget, rather like a habit One can always break - and yet,
The singer acknowledges that the subject could be replaced, but still feels a sense of gratitude for their impact on their life.


I've grown accustomed to the trace, Of something in the air, Accustomed to her face.
The artist has become attached to the subject's unique presence and energy, even beyond their physical appearance.




Lyrics © Warner Chappell Music, Inc.
Written by: Alan Jay Lerner, Frederick Loewe

Lyrics Licensed & Provided by LyricFind
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DBJ


on The Big Movie Show In The Sky

WHERE ARE THE LYRICS AFTER, I SURRENDER DEAR?

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