I made one last cattle drive to Kansas,
Riding north on that Ol’ Chisolm Trail.
You said , “Honey don’t go, I’ll worry ‘bout you so.”
I kept my spurs on and I hit on up the trail.

The cattle drive was mighty long and dusty.
I tell you, it was a dry one that year.
The Kiowa stole five of my horses from me,
But losing horses was the least of my fears.

I was almost home. I was almost home.
Baby won’t you wait, I got there too late.
Oh Lord, I almost made it back home.

We finally reached our destination.
We got paid, hit the bars and felt no pain.
Late one night I had hell of a dream.
I heard you cry out my name.

I rode hard to get back to Texas.
It seemed forever … the minutes were like hours.
When I finally got there, I choked on my tears…
There was fresh dirt, a wooden cross, and fresh cut flowers.

I was almost home. I was almost home.
Baby won’t you wait, I got there too late.
Oh Lord, I almost made it back home.