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 lights,
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 city girls,
Who lived up the stairs,
With all their erfumed hair,
And it 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 vintagewine,
from fine older kegs,
From the brim to the dregs,
It poured sweet and clear,
It was a very good year.

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