When We Were Seventeen

When I was seventeen, it was a very good year,
for not knowing and learning and drinking beer,
remember making love, driving a car, being a star,
of stage, screen and radio, they joked from afar.

When I was twenty one, they thew me towards ceiling,
we always bounced back, no matter what the feeling;
there were parties, a young man suddenly waked in,
then five minutes later he was carried out, what a sin.

When I was twenty three, it was the time to travel,
the young man entered The Grand Hotel, looked unreal,
wearing a silk mohair suit, staff scurrying with my bag,
unflappable, not like some, spirits would hardly ever sag.

Now I'm older, still manage to avoid numerous also-rans,
they said: 'We remember you - the guy who made the plans.'