Citylite is... lite.
Tony Blair, the British Prime Minister, is being shown around a hospital. Towards the end of the visit, he is shown into a ward with a number people with no obvious signs of injury or disease.
He goes to greet the first patient and the chap replies:
"Fair fa' your honest sonsie face, Great chieftain e' the puddin' race! Aboon them a' ye tak your place, Painch, tripe, or thairm; Weel are ye wordy o' a grace as lang's my arm."
Tony, being somewhat confused (easily done) goes to the next patient and greets him. The patient replies:
"Some hae meat, and canna eat, and some wad eat that want it, but we hae meat and can eat, and sae the Lord be thankit."
The third starts rattling off as follows:
"Wee sleekit, cow'rin, tim'rous beastie, O, what a panic's in thy breastie! Thou need na start awa sae hasty, wi bickering brattle! I wad be laith to rin an chase thee, wi murdering pattle!"
Tony turns to the doctor accompanying him and asks what sort of ward is this. A mental ward?
"No," replies the doctor, "It's the Burns unit."