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