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 that perfumed 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

Wed ride in limousines

Their chauffeurs would drive

When I was 35

But now the days are short

I′m in the autumn of my years

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