When I was seventeen, it was a very good year.
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It was a very good year for small town girls and soft summer nights.
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We'd hide from the light on the village green when I was seventeen.
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When I was twenty-one, it was a very good year.
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It was a very good year for city
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girls who lived up the stairs
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With perfume hair that came undone
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when I was twenty-one.
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When I was thirty-five, it was a very good year.
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It was a very good year for blue-blooded
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girls of independent means.
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We'd ride in limousines. Their chauffeurs
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would drive when I was thirty-five.
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But now the days are short, I'm in the
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autumn of the year
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and now I think of my life as vintage
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wine from fine old kegs
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From the brim to the dregs. It poured
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sweet and clear. It was a very good year
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It Was A Very Good Year
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| Robbie Williams |
