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 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