Don McLean — It Was A Very Good Year

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 perfumed 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, a very good, a very good year