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
Williams Robbie - It Was A Very Good Year Lyrics
Williams Robbie - It Was A Very Good Year Lyrics
We currently do not have these lyrics.
If you would like to submit them, please use the form below.
We currently do not have these lyrics.
If you would like to submit them, please use the form below.
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
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