When I think of Elizabeth Taylor, and many's the times I do,I think what that poor kid puts up with, and it tears my heart in two.She's out every night in a swank cabaret, Gets breakfast in bed on a solid gold tray,I hear that she earns seven thousand a day, What kind of life is that?She gets what she wants, irregardless of price, Yeah, did you see her reign, that was somehunk of ice?Why she has thirty minks that she's never worn twice,What kind of life is that?What kind of life, what kind of life, what kind of life is that?Facing snakes and other dangers, Making love to perfect strangers,I read in the news she buys booze by the vat, Now what kind of life is that?Poor Liz, poor Liz, Does she know what it means to make a pot roast last a week?To wrap a towel around a pipe in case it springs a leak?Does she know what it means to get down on her hands and knees?To wash her kid's pajamas or her old man's BVDs?These simple pleasures don't delight her, She's too busy with my Dolce Vita.Wherever she goes, something thrilling occurs, She goes out to dine and the restaurant stirs,She's had twenty husbands, yeah, five of them hers,What kind of life is that?I'm sure Liz must think things look dandy so far,But will she, like poor Sybil, one day wear a scar?Will she wind up too with a rock and roll star?What kind of life is that?What kind of life, what kind of life, what kind of life is that?At MGM they silver-spooned her, I think National Velvet wrote her,I'd pay for a house, what she pays for a hat,What kind of life is that?They packed up the crew at the Fox studio, They headed for Egypt, but Nasser said no,They wouldn't let her in, she's Jewish, you know,What kind of life is that?So for all of her glamour and her hoop-dee-doo, And her house in the best neighborhood,You'd take that lousy life if it was offered to you,You could pet Cleopatra's ass, you would!