From the dictionary, under "idyllic"...

"Well, the boys from the south played guitar on the porch,
as we surfed in the waves trying not to get scorched
by the sun that day. Man we had fun that day.

And that night after dark, when our bellies were full
fire-flies, they came out for a private light show,
and I couldn't believe that we soon had to leave...

Sweet Madera,
I've got to get back to Madera.
You know that I'll miss my Madera.

Well we talked round the table until the dawn came
and then lay in our beds listening to the rain
on the tin roof above, whispering about love.

As our thoughts drifted off to the sounds of the night,
oh, the clouds opened wide letting in the sweet light,
and we watched the sun rise saying our last goodbyes.

To Madera,
You know that I'll miss my Madera.
I've got to get back to Madera..."