It was a very good year for small town girls
We'd hide from the lights
It was a very good year for city girls
With all that perfumed hair
It was a very good year for blue-blooded girls
And their chauffeurs would drive
But now the days grow short
I'm in the autumn of my years
And I think of my life as vintage wine
From the brim to the dregs
And it poured sweet and clear