frank sinatranin guzel yorumladigi ve kisinin dinledigi vakit maziye beyaz mendil sallamaktan baska bir seyin elden gelmedigini insanin kafasina dank ettiren ammavelakin gene gecmisi tatli bir huzunle hatirlamaya vesile olan parcasi:
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 lights
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 stair
with all that perfumed hair
and it 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 grow 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
and it poured sweet and clear
it was a very good year
it was a mess of good years...
