You can tell tall stories till the cows come home,
In a way that makes people believe them.
What you lack in honesty is made up in charisma,
And no-one notices as you decieve them.

You can make excuses till the cows come home,
Reel them off one after another,
You can take my sympathy, milk it for all its worth,
But there'll come a time when you discover

There's a limit.
There's a limit.
There's only so far you can go.
There's a limit.
There's a limit.

You can take advantage till the cows come home
Of whoever happens to be near.
And when it's convenient, your memory is foggy,
At the same time your consience is clear.

But there's a limit.
There's a limit.

It's been going on so long now,
Since I introduced you,
To people who are getting used,
Or else they're getting used to
You.

You can charm the birds out of the trees,
Till the cows come home.
But my patience is sure put to the test.
When I return and in return for trying to find out,
Find someone else is shitting in my nest.

There's a limit.
There's a limit.
There's only so far you can go.
There's a limit.
There's a limit.

It's been going on so long now,
Since I introduced you,
To people who are getting used,
Or else they're getting used to
You.