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 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