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 perfumed hair
that 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 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