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 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