A drinking song (in the grande style)

Look at you
You disgust me
Sitting there staring at me
Giving me no more respect
Than the images on your TV

Well, I have a wish for you
Yes, I have a wish for you

May all your mornings be bright
And may all your wool stockings fit a little too tight
May alarms that sounds on the cars around town
Their owners never be found
Your palate is dry
Your tongue is green
That's me in your head
Telling you to stay off my scene

You're drunk
And I suppose that's your excuse
But really
I'm not the anchor of the ten o'clock news

A toast to you
My inappropriate friends
Godspeed to the bathroom tiles
Your umbridled ignorance truly offends

It's a drinking song in the grande style