when I was 17 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 17 when I was 21 it was a very good year it was a very good year for the city girls who lived up the stairs with perfumed hair that came undone when I was 21 when I was 35 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 35 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 a very good a very good year
