X marks the spot

 Just to to escape the cold and wet
Not Xanadu, that holiday you expect
The swimming pool it had a xanthic tide
 Building sites just side by side  
From our hallowed walls, that xavarian aplomb
Our cosset but without much sun and palm trees fronds
We need that xenon light shine down
Culture under cloudless sky, whilst suntan brown
To see the xylograph, applaude its style
A type face of calligraphy upon the toilet tile
The xylophone of the mosquito's drone
The ancient xebec boat of shallow draught
Tried sea worthiness, not like modern craft
Plummet all hope when our dive boat sank
The xylene thinners in the drums  
It leaked, its fumes upset all our tums
The nurses were so kind
Said your so lucky to survive  
Just a small lump on your chest
The heart massage that xiphoid did not effect
We were so sick packed our bags
Filled them up with booze and fags
 Like sweets stuck to seats with xanthene gum
Don't stick around, go home to mum