Philip the Engineer sits down and lays the blueprint on the ground. At this point he's the only one who can read them. It's been five years since the sky crashed down the city has moved underground, and he's the one who built the walls that saved them. But he knows, he knows, they're slowly caving in, caving. I don't want to be the one who says it's broken, but somebody's got to tell it like it is. I don't want to kill the vibe, or burst your bubble, babe, but time, makes grown-ups out of kids. Oh, time makes grown-ups out of kids. Harold Bronson grew up here, an apprentice to the engineer. He's never seen the sun or stars before. And he's studying all night and day, he's losing sleep to learn his trade, but he's noticed a flaw in Philip's equation. And he knows, he knows, they're all in danger, danger. I don't want to be the one who says it's broken, but somebody's got to tell it like it is. I don't want to kill the vibe, or burst your bubble, babe, but time, makes grown-ups out of kids. Oh, time makes grown-ups out of kids. But you're so fragile already, oh, and we all feel what's heavy, 'cause heavy things must all fall down. So should I tell the truth if you're not ready. I don't want to be the one who says it's broken, but somebody's got to tell it like it is. I don't want to kill the vibe, or burst your bubble, babe, but time, makes grown-ups out of kids. Oh, time makes grown-ups out of kids. You can't stop the time. So kiss your kids goodbye. You can't stop the time. So kiss your kids goodbye.