Sunday Morning Fever MONSIGNOR HOWARD:
[Welcome back, faithful followers old and
new!
And now to raise the temperature
even higher,
we have a brand new hymn
by our very own
Queen of Angels - or
should I say
Disco Queen of Angels -
choir!
Hit it, sisters!]

DELORIS/NUNS:
Spread the news!
It's time to rock the pews!
We've got the sunday
morning fever!
It's a sound
that turns your soul around
until it makes you a believer.

Every priest,
every deacon,
everyone who feels the beat
starts freakin'.
Catch the bug!
Ride the groove!
Boogie 'til you feel your spirit move!
Come and get that
sunday morning fever.
Give the Lord a try!

MOTHER SUPERIOR:
[Queen of Angels is not your grandma's
church anymore. God help your
grandmother if it were.]


Everything that woman does
infects us more and more.
Things were bad the way it was,
but Lord, you're killing us with
the cure!

MONSIGNOR HOWARD:
[Welcome back, o multitudes! Our humble
sanctuary overflows with your fabulous
devotion! So, get down, get
down, get down
on your knees, and show the Lord
how deep is your love.]

MARY PATRICK:
Girls and boys, come make a
joyful noise
and do the sunday morning hustle!
Bump that thing in praise of
Christ the king
until you pull your pelvic muscle!

NUNS
Get confessed!
Get anointed!
Then get down
like you were double-jointed!

Feel the flow! Dig the scene!
Shake it like you're Mary Magdalene!
Come and let that sunday
morning fever!
Make your footsies fly!

EDDIE:
[“By popular demand, Queen of Angels
Church has expanded to eight mosses per
Sunday, all fuelled by the high octane
choir direction of the fabulous sister Mary

Clarence.” Deloris - what part of
"hiding out" don't you understand?]

This keeps goin'
and crowds keep growin' –
the word is gonna spread.
Every mention
just brings more attention.
And you won't be so fabulous if
you're dead.

ALL NUNS:
Now, put your hands in the air!
And wave 'em all around in prayer!
Let your funky behavior
show that you and the savior
got each other like Sonny and Cher!

MARY LAZARUS:
A hip, hop. A hippity a hippity
a ding dong dippity dee!
I'm a celibate sister,
but I'm hot as a blister
so hang onto your rosary!
Now I may be a fossil,
but my skills
are colossal,
and I rock the mig just like an apostle,
and I don't stop
'til your doubts go pop.
And I take you over the top!

We got Matt, Mark, (Matt, Mark)
Luke and John. (Luke, John)
Those guys are pros,
and that ain't no con.

So let's party on
'til the break-break-a-dawn
like a sanctifunkadelic
orgasmatron!

NUNS:
Get the vibe, make some noise!
Do the bus stop with the altar boys!
You can bet that
sunday morning fever
is the reason why!

MARY ROBERT/NUNS:
(Aw - beep beep!)
Dudes and chicks, (beep deep!)

whip out your crucifix,
(toot, toot)
and join the sunday celebration!
(uh-huh! Join the celebration!)
Genuflect, (toot, toot)
Give God his due respect.

(Beep, beep)
Then put your backside in rotation!
(Well, well, well, well)
Raise your hands! (Uh-huh!)
Get them clappin’! (Uh-huh!)
And you’ll see that miracles can
happen! (Aw - beep, beep!)

MONSIGNOR HOWARD:
[Sisters, sisters! I bear remarkable news!
A miracle has happened! Bishop Donahue
read last week’s newspaper article about
our choir…]


NUNS:
Ooh!

MONSIGNOR HOWARD:
[No, no, no… Wait that’s not the news!
He called
Archbishop Narsutis, who colled Cardinal
McCanna, who has invited us to sing
this week…]

NUNS:
Ooh!

MONSIGNOR HOWARD:
[Uh uh hum, uh uh hum let me finish! He has invited us to
sing this week for a special visitor... a very
special visitor from the Vatican!]

MARY PATRICK:
[You mean the Po-ho-ho - the Po-ho-ho -]

MOTHER SUPERIOR:
[Calm down, sister! You mean the Po-ho-ho -]

MONSIGNOR HOWARD:
[That’s right – can you believe it?
The Po-ho-ho himself!]

DELORIS/NUNS/CONSTRUCTION WORKERS:
Praise the Lord! Join the flock!
Party 'til you make the cloister rock!
Won't regret that sunday
morning fever –
Kiss those sins goodbye!
Fill the church! Pass the plate!
Everybody transubstantiate
come and get that sunday
morning fever.

Supernatural high!
Mass appeal was never so real
and can'tcha feel that sunday fever...

MOTHER SUPERIOR:
Just imagine what the Pope
will make of them!
Every sequined booty-shake
of them.
Let us pray he isn't too censorial,
and that somehow God's trae
glory'll rise.
Sunday fiver rise!

EDDIE:
Cool it down,
ya gotta promise me ya will.
Or you'll blow it, guarantee ya will.
And the odds that Shank will see
ya will rise.
Sunday fever rise!

MONSIGNOR HOWARD:
Good Lord!
Thanks to you!
All this, right in front of our eyes.
Sunday fever rise!

NUNS/WORKERS:
Rise! Rise! Rise! Rise!
Rise! Rise! Rise! Rise!
Thank God it's sunday!
Sunday fever rise!