"It was a very good year" de Frank Sinatra, pero el atardecer es triste

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xwv-DxOPhSc

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 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 mess of good years.