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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

And now the days are short
I'm in the autumn of my years
And 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

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