The narration pops up sporadically throughout the album, of course, complete with nearly nonsensical ramblings about "pomegranate" and "syllables" - but like my friend said it seems to show that Conor Oberst has an artistic philosophical proclamation of sorts that he wants to intertwine with his music. I do tend to like such a mixture, as long as it is done subtly and smartly, and in this case although it is a bit overt and a bit "out there" at points I do have to say that I enjoy the way it ends.
Best I can transcribe it, what follows is the final narration of the album. The man is coming to the climax of his monologue, but it is up to someone nearby to fill in the final word:
Well the transitic [?] is to love. You go back to love again. You understand when somebody has a problem with your trip, or whatever trip they're having a problem with, and you try to bring it together, you try not to cause division. You try to make it as a cosmos, it's a cosmos and yet it unfolds like a flower - it just keeps unfolding. Time keeps moving on - instead of someone saying 'no man, we're moving on, we're gonna become fascists [?], we're gonna do it this way' you say 'no we're moving on and I hope to see you again when everything's okay.'
And that's the human race. When there's total enlightenment, there will be peace, there will be bliss, there will be total enlightenment. So enlightenment is knowledge, as much knowledge as you can get, people, to seek and to understand, you know? And it's mankind, it's men, it's me and you, it's us that do it. But we have to call it to the light. We say 'you know, I'm not going to kick that guy's @$£, his opinion is different.' That's love, compassion, ar, what do you call it, that's..."mercy" [says someone nearby]"What's that?""mercy" [he whispers]