At Seventeen
Amber Claire · Love And Such [2004]
That love was meant for beauty queens
And high school girls with clear-skinned smiles
Who married young and then retired
The valentines I never knew
The Friday night charades of youth
Were spent on one more beautiful
At seventeen I learned the truth
And those of us with ravaged faces
Lacking in the social graces
Desperately remained at home
Inventing lovers on the phone
Who called to say, "Come dance with me"
And murmured vague obscenities
It isn't all it seems at seventeen
To those of us who know the pain
Of valentines that never came
And those whose names were never called
When choosing sides for basketball
It was long ago and far away
The world was younger than today
When dreams were all they gave for free
To ugly duckling girls like me
We all play the game and when we dare
To cheat ourselves at solitaire
Inventing lovers on the phone
Repenting other's lives unknown
And call to say, "Come on, dance with me"
And murmur vague obscenities
At ugly girls like me at seventeen
[Instrumental]
We all play the game and when we dare
To cheat ourselves at solitaire
Inventing lovers on the phone
Repenting other's lives unknown
And call to say, "Come on, dance with me"
And murmur vague obscenities
It isn't all it seems at seventeen
At Seventeen
Amber Claire's "At Seventeen" serves as a poignant centerpiece on her 2004 album *Love And Such*. Released during the height of her career, the track exemplifies her signature blend of indie pop and acoustic storytelling, characterized by intimate vocals and melodic simplicity. The song reflects a period of personal reflection and youthful nostalgia, themes that permeate her broader discography from this era. Alongside tracks like "Here It Comes" and "Close The Door," "At Seventeen" captures the raw emotional honesty that defined her early work, resonating with listeners seeking authentic musical expression. As a key recording in her catalogue, it stands as a testament to her ability to craft memorable songs rooted in genuine sentiment.

