2.8. A very good year.
Died, zingend aan piano:
When I was seventeen
it was a very good year
it was a very good year
for small town girls
and soft summernights
we'd hide from the light
on the the village green
when I was seventeen
When I was twenty-one
it was a very good year
it was as very good year
for city girls
who lived up the stairs
with all that purfumed hair
and it came undone
when I was twenty-one.
Arie:
Trouwens, als ik niks op dat raam geschilderd had, had niemand geweten dat hier überhaupt een restaurant is.
Died:
En wat wil je daar mee zeggen?
Arie:
Dat je ergens moet beginnen. En wat je begonnen bent moet je ook afmaken.
Died:
Met je potje verf en je kwastje.
Arie:
Ja. Met me potje verf en me kwastje.
