Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song I've Grown Accustomed to Her Face (Extrait De La Comédie Musicale « My Fair Lady »), artist - Rex HarrisonAlbum song Les plus grandes comédies musicales américaines, Vol. 14 : My Fair Lady, in the genre Поп
Date of issue: 07.09.2019
Record label: MpM
Song language: English
I've Grown Accustomed to Her Face (Extrait De La Comédie Musicale « My Fair Lady ») |
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 |
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 |
But I’m so used to hear her say |
Good morning everyday |
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 |