When I was a young man
I detested law and order.
I bought a Vee Dub camper van
and headed for the border.

Put down my hippy ways.
Kicked off my hippy shoes.
I was in for happy days
on a Disney jungle cruise.

I had the perfect plan
and put it into play.
When I hit Yucatan
I settled down to stay
.
underneath the mango tree
to ride the wild surf.
To let the jungle sponsor me
and be  my home turf.

An Eden in full bloom.
Eternal life giver
nearly became my tomb
when I drank from the river.

My feces, white as chalk.
My eyes, a shade of yellow.
My legs refused to walk.
The consistency of jello.

Then a friendly little Mayan
found me in my van.
I was half dead and dyin'
down in Yucatan.

I awoke in a shack,
in a village by the sea.
Flat on my back.
Chills and fever.
103.

They went to any length
to nurse and comfort me
and when I finally found my strength
I mended fishing nets for free.

Folks so poor in hurt 
on the costa del mar.
Their floors, hardpacked dirt.
My van the only car.

Shared what little bit they had
yet were happy just the same.
They laughed when they were sad
and had no word for blame.

Knew things I couldn't know.
Saw things I'd never seen.
Went to where I couldn't go 
so I took their mescaline.

Then I saw another life.
They invited me to stay.
Wanted me to take a wife,
but I could hear L.A.

calling in the distance.
That's always been my way.
Take the path of least resistance.
Adios S.A.

I signed the van away,
hitched a ride to Veracruz.
Non-stop into L.A.
in rags and Mayan shoes,

and a colorful serape.
My mother stared, aghast
and asked, "Where's that old jalopy?"
I said to her at last...

Down in Yucatan
I was half dead and dyin'.
I gave my Vee Dub camper van
to a friendly little Mayan

because he saved my bacon
and showed me how to live.
After all that I had taken
it's the least that I could give.

I grew up while in that  jungle.
A boy became a man.
Said "Adios" to Mr. Bungle.
Down in Yucatan.