| Damn! |
| Damn! |
| Damn! |
| Damn!
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| I’ve grown accustomed to her face
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| She almost makes the day begin
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| I’ve grown accustomed to the tune that
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| She whistles night and noon
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| Her smiles, her frowns
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| Her ups, her downs
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| Are second nature to me now
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| Like breathing out and breathing in
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| I was serenely independent and content before we met
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| Surely I could always be that way again
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| And yet
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| I’ve grown accustomed to her look
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| Accustomed to her voice
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| Accustomed to her face
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| I can see her now, Mrs. Freddy Eynsford-Hill
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| In a wretched little flat above a store
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| I can see her now, not a penny in the till
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| And a bill collector beating at the door
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| She’ll try to teach the things I taught her
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| And end up selling flowers instead
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| Begging for her bread and water
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| While her husband has his breakfast in bed
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| In a year, or so, when she’s prematurely grey
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| And the blossom in her cheek has turned to chalk
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| She’ll come home, and lo, he’ll have upped and run away
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| With a social-climbing heiress from New York
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| Poor Eliza. |
| How simply frightful
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| How humiliating! |
| How delightful
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| How poignant it’ll be on that inevitable night
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| When she hammers on my door in tears and rags
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| Miserable and lonely, repentant and contrite
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| Will I take her in or hurl her to the walls
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| Give her kindness or the treatment she deserves
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| Will I take her back or throw the baggage out
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| But I’m a most forgiving man
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| The sort who never could, ever would
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| Take a position and staunchly never budge
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| A most forgiving man
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| But, I shall never take her back
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| If she were even crawling on her knees
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| Let her promise to atone
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| Let her shiver, let her moan
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| I’ll slam the door and let the hell-cat freeze
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| But I’m so used to hear her say
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| Good morning everyday
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| Her joys, her woes
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| Her highs, her lows
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| Are second nature to me now
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| Like breathing out and breathing in
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| I’m very grateful she’s a woman
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| And so easy to forget
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| Rather like a habit
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| One can always break
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| And yet
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| I’ve grown accustomed to the trace
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| Of something in the air
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| Accustomed to her face |