Child Of Styx

Child of Styx

False pleasures do abound

The staff picks

Have run us underground

There are no schools left to accept you

Child of Styx

A famous photojournalist

Couldn't have said it better when you said

I'm tired of chasing history's head

Perfection lies in the letter

Await the resurrection of style

A love of grace could carry us through

What's a country mile to the likes of you

Just please

Don't call them like you see them

No, please

Don't call them like you see them

No, please

Don't call them like you see them

What was once behind the red door

Is still behind the red door

Child of Styx