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When I was seventeen,
it was a very good year.
It was a very good year for small town
girls and soft summer nights.
We'd hide from the light on the village green
When I was seventeen.
When I was twenty-one,
it was a very good year.
It was a very good year for city girls
who lived up the stairs
With all that perfumed hair and it came undone
When I was twenty-one.
When I was thirty-five,
it was a very good year.
It was a very good year for blue-blooded
girls of independent means.
We'd ride in limousines,
their chauffeurs would drive
When I was thirty-five.
But now the days are short,
I'm in the Autumn of the year
And now I think of my life
as vintage wine from fine old kegs
From the brim to the dregs,
it poured sweet and clear.
It was a very good year.
