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 lights 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 stair 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 grow 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 And it poured sweet and clear It was a very good year
