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 stair

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 the year
And now I think of my life

as vintage wine from fine old kegs

From the brim to the dregs

and it poured sweet and clear
It was a very good year