When he was seventeen
It was a very good year
It was a very good year for small town girls
And soft summer nights
We would a hide from the lights
On the village green
That's when I was seventeen
Seventeen
When he was twenty-one
It was a very good year
It was a very good year for big city girls
Who lived up the stair
With all that perfumed hair
And it came undone
That's When he was twenty-one
When he was twenty-one
When he was thirty-five
It was a very good year
It was a very good year for blue-blooded girls
With independent means
A they would a ride in the limousines
That was when chauffeurs would drive
A When he was thirty-five
When he was thirty-five
But now the days grow short
He's in the autumn of the years
And now he thinks 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
It was a very good year
Very good
Very good