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 ...
Then 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 grow 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 ...
It was a mess of good years ...
It Was A Very Good Year, popularized by Frank Sinatra
