When saffron lights are shining,
In my Edinburgh cut glass,
I know it’s time to ponder good,
And eliminate the crass,
To envision all that’s fine out there,
To be a hypocrite to class.
The sheen is not quite rose coloured,
Though it has the same effect,
It blinds you to reality,
Falsely makes you feel select,
But escape is not a bad thing,
It’s good to feel perfect.