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 on that perfume 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 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