Lee Ranaldo - Scriptures of the Golden Eternity lyrics

hello, hello check 1,2 check uhm maybe just a l... ah okay yeah here comes the feedback check I was gonna start tonight by telling this story about this TV-show I saw when I was a kid and I guess I will, tell it. It was an old episode of Superman, I don't know how many of you ever saw that show, not the cartoon but the real show. And - eh - in this particular episode these two -ah - innocent people were being taken away by the bad guys, right. and - ehm - ah - I don't really know how to explain this but one of them was some sort of electronics wizard or something and right before the bad guys took them away he managed to leave a clue behind. and the clue consisted somehow of two little pieces of recording tape with signals on them. and the one - eh - the one signal was a sound like this: hello, hello, hello, hello. and the other one was a sound like this: Pggggooow, Pggggoow. and without going into all the sordid details, well, they weren't really sordid but, - ehm - Superman and his cronies figured out that, these, the bad guys were taking these two to a place called echo canyon. the first sound being an echo and the second sound being a cannon. and - ahm - I guess all this tonight somehow stems from that show back in 1966. down on the banks whoo, whoooOOOOO, WHOOOOOO down on the banks we told tales of Julie a pale beauty in coiled mortal fleet we lay in the gra**, we watched the sun-rise we could lean back and ease into the river I remember you said I remember and that's enough to pull it all the years to fill the cannon full to find her honey bunny fill in the gra** to watch the detrip see live slipping yes, we remember and that's enough two in the beauty lying in the kinds playing here for ever a beauty impaled coiled mortal sleek like North-Carolina like Hemmingway like the new condo like the new Patti record like my cd-player like the earth moving underneath like the diamond in the rough, just like the jist in the minds like the turbulant, turple, side like a jack-knife inside a dream a railroad runs through the recordstore the people and the power the people and the sick and the dead like Hemmingway and Traffal like the ones in a silent cinema like Garder and Traffal like the echo in the canyon like a canyon in my head