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Written by ervin drake
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 light 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 stairs
With perfume hair that 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. it poured
Sweet and clear. it was a very good year.
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