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Scream
Paolo Nutini Lyrics


How was I to know you'd just come along?
And funk my life up
Lips like debbie's, sing sex like strawberry songs
Just funk my life up
Never heard her coming, thought it was just another woman
With a shotgun in her hand
Funk my life up

She's the bass, she's the beat, she's the rhythm, she's the band
Just funk my life up
And that girl, so fine
Makes you wanna scream hallelujah

Sly hands, spinning wax lights, oh God
Beats are dripping on me like spider milk
And I never heard the warning when I woke up in the morning
With my sunshine on a drip

She's my rock, she's my but, she's the dealer trip
And that girl, so fine
Makes you wanna scream hallelujah

How could I refuse? I'm not fit to chose
Just funk my life up
Said the only way I win is the way I lose
Just funk my life up
And I never got the script, I unzipped
Got a little bit wet up there in my brain
She's your church, she's your sin, she's a comic, she's a
And that girl, so fine
You wanna scream

She gets me sinning, she's like a trick on me
Hell, I don't even know her name but yet she sticks to me
And in the climax she would scream with me
Yeah, she sticks to me
She gets me funny, she doesn't want none of my money
So I pour it over her like gasoline
Light a match and then I'm back in my teens
Me and super girl smoking my green
Me and super girl smoking my green

Oh, Lord, reload, ice bags, scream
Sweet thing, nose ring, jet pack, sing
That girl so fine, makes you wanna scream hallelujah
Hallelujah
Yeah, that girl, so fine you wanna scream

Lyrics © Warner/Chappell Music, Inc.
Written by: Paolo Nutini

Lyrics Licensed & Provided by LyricFind
To comment on specific lyrics, highlight them
Most interesting comments from YouTube:

Laurraine-Marcelle Gereige

Here goes everything and nothing: Coz the Beirut blast could have affected the handwritten one in said bottle sent out on August 3rd, and a quick Google search showed Langley UK is where packages go to die,
A message in a bottle still large at sea (March 12, 6:27pm Greenwich Time +2):

So I am writing this fully aware I will most probably land on eyes rolling from yet another letter to Paolo that does nothing to put the bucks in the pocket, or an algorithm tailored to what I am sure is an omnipresent contact from humans that need to be spoken to the way Paolo and the Vipers do, telling you how much they love him for the ideas they have of him that make them find themselves. In either case I humbly ask human, or algorithm to do what they can to transmit the following letter to Paolo; a man whose expression made my world stop 13 days ago, and whom I suspect I was destined to learn to live and love with. A quick search of me will show you I am a scientist, so please know this suspicion has weight here, as does belief the rare moments destiny is kind enough to show itself.



And whilst I know the toll it takes on Paolo’s support system to ensure flawless filtration of what he needs to pay attention to on the daily, I hope you won’t blame a girl for trying to see if he would like to come out and play in quantum leaps; you see, I respect my regrets too much to not exercise my freedom in sending out this message, in a few bottles, as I love how impossible the boy is to directly reach.



And I would not be bothering you have I not learned from St. Exupéry’s fox to be very responsible with what I tame in this life. I am usually quite a creature of the face to face, so my immediate plan was to figure out how to yesterday show up in Paisley, at Paolo’s doorstep, with a bottle of 60.3% A’bunadh, asking he drink and sail with me for another bottle’s moment; but 11 years ago I tamed a toruk of a Great Dane that refuses to eat when I am not around, and is pushing the boundaries of age (as he does every day with the boundaries of love) a bit too far to be fit to travel. So here we are, and know I stand in utmost gratitude for your time. 



N.B: Some things are also lost on me, one of them would be your silence. So I propose a simple 'F**k Off' of sorts in reply to this message if applicable, and I will ensure you and Paolo never hear from me again. I just ask that you note that if I do not hear anything back, I will be showing up one day in Paisley; and whilst I know it might become the story of when Laurraine gets arrested in Scotland, I say handcuffs behold.  



Respectfully,


Laurraine-Marcelle Gereige 




To Paolo:



I discovered you through the grapevine of a boy I collided into 7 months ago on a cruise for dialogue time, but I was so engrossed in the kid that all I could get myself to do when he played 'Iron Sky' in reference to what I was saying, was take a photo of his radio’s screen within his file (a protocol of mine when something someone shows me tastes too good not to research, and I gotta keep focus on them). Now this revolutionary boy was not the elephant I seek in self, so I had to stop looking at him that way before I truly started, and I never got back to that file coz it was tough enough to by the second contain and place that collision that lasted but a weekend (only 5 weeks ago did my yelling at the gods concerning him stop). 



Then on February 29 as my phone stipulates, I had YouTube’s dizzy yet kind curation accompany my hours in the lab when 'Iron Sky' started playing. I thanked the base those first few seconds for doing what every good whisky does within holding together the insides and giving breath, then you started. After the first rise above love hate and fear you had my full attention, me who aches for fields of truth beyond the right and wrong. I took off gloves, went to phone, saw I was on the Abbey Road session, and could not stop watching and hearing you turn into god then nothing at all in one live expression. So I had to share you with the boy who is now epic friend, and I sent him the link in reference to what I was saying on our last dialogue. Then I remembered his file, that I had seen these words before, Iron Sky, Nutini, Abbey Road, and I sent him an apology with the photo I had taken of his radio on that first ride; as it was the second time such a thing happens, me sending him what time has shown he had taken impeccable measure to curate for our talks, and I like to pay only once for my mistakes.



Now I have learned from scientific verification that whilst a single occurrence could be deemed happenstance, another one whispers promises that patterns will soon ebb and unfold; which tickles us seasoned explorers into the knowing that staying the course will reveal absolutes we can find truth in galore. So when you tasted just as good that day as you did months ago, I made sure I moved on from replaying the Abbey Rd session of 'Iron Sky' (by that point the birds started singing with you and the AM light), and I let YouTube show me what it wanted me to see of yours next, which was 'Scream' the Sam’s BBQ session; and just like that you knocked me down kid, and for a Muay Thai girl that is the rarest and best of parts. Only those trained to hear the prayer in one's self contempt can explain how that session both sharpens and heals a girl instantly, and just with the knowing you exist. Then came the next round with your interviews, and I watched you answer questions with icebergs while remaining kind no matter what, and that alone on the daily would make my world stop. 



At this point I was ready to take the referee hostage long enough to promise you things, which made me pause instantly as I am super careful with the words I give, and the pause did what all pauses do in terms of making things die or grow, and I let it. It reminded me I can get pretty boy dizzy when I smell my own elephant scent thinking it belongs to another, and that I do have a natural inability to initially tell apart pyrite from gold; so I realized how necessary it was to declutter my perception of you, in order to actually verify you in the difficult ways that matter to the likes of me, Rango. Now within a rigorously tested given that I am incapable of the in-betweens despite my sanctimonious search for balance, the best option for me at that moment was to eliminate the boy entirely from the equation (especially that I had enough evidence from your words to indicate you already are the love you want), and focus exclusively on what the boy creates, and see what he’s really made of.  So I did what I always do to ensure music upholds the standards of Bach, Beethoven and Chopin, in that it keeps getting better the more I listen to it, and gave it a week of only Bach as a palate cleanser. I saw that beyond having of the old and the new, you do get better with time; which was the lights out moment of a knockout that I make it a point to live for. 



Listen, I know this is crazy at some level, but like Bukowski says “some people never go crazy, what truly horrible lives they must lead”. But like Pythagoras who closely learned two important things from Socrates says, “No man is truly free who cannot command himself”. And while you should have everything you need to know about me within these lines, let's limit the crazy here and propose the following:



Write and ask me whatever you want (I give word that I will answer in truth as far as I have gotten within not lying to myself - a must do daily exercise)  



Google is a great friend 



Background Check is a must



And know that once you have done what you need to do, and if you still wanna come out to Lebanon and share that bottle with me, an epic papa, and that toruk I spoke of; you and yours are most welcome in our home, anytime. 



I will end this monologue here and ask, are you with me Paolo? 



Can we be both Pygmalion and a Galatea who never leaves, each? 



Can we leave what we love and create behind, like pyramids with enough light and darkness to make the likes of Blaise Pascal think?



Can we do so without leaving each other’s ribs, nor reminding that we feed one another? 



In other words, can we break dem odds and figure out how to be entirely together, and absolutely free?



Let me know,



L



Laurraine-Marcelle Gereige

And another everything, and nothing: Coz the Beirut blast could have affected the handwritten one in said bottle sent out on August 3rd, and a quick Google search showed Langley UK is where packages go to die,
A message in a bottle still large at sea (March 12, 6:27pm Greenwich Time +2):

So I am writing this fully aware I will most probably land on eyes rolling from yet another letter to Paolo that does nothing to put the bucks in the pocket, or an algorithm tailored to what I am sure is an omnipresent contact from humans that need to be spoken to the way Paolo and the Vipers do, telling you how much they love him for the ideas they have of him that make them find themselves. In either case I humbly ask human, or algorithm to do what they can to transmit the following letter to Paolo; a man whose expression made my world stop 13 days ago, and whom I suspect I was destined to learn to live and love with. A quick search of me will show you I am a scientist, so please know this suspicion has weight here, as does belief the rare moments destiny is kind enough to show itself.



And whilst I know the toll it takes on Paolo’s support system to ensure flawless filtration of what he needs to pay attention to on the daily, I hope you won’t blame a girl for trying to see if he would like to come out and play in quantum leaps; you see, I respect my regrets too much to not exercise my freedom in sending out this message, in a few bottles, as I love how impossible the boy is to directly reach.



And I would not be bothering you have I not learned from St. Exupéry’s fox to be very responsible with what I tame in this life. I am usually quite a creature of the face to face, so my immediate plan was to figure out how to yesterday show up in Paisley, at Paolo’s doorstep, with a bottle of 60.3% A’bunadh, asking he drink and sail with me for another bottle’s moment; but 11 years ago I tamed a toruk of a Great Dane that refuses to eat when I am not around, and is pushing the boundaries of age (as he does every day with the boundaries of love) a bit too far to be fit to travel. So here we are, and know I stand in utmost gratitude for your time. 



N.B: Some things are also lost on me, one of them would be your silence. So I propose a simple 'F**k Off' of sorts in reply to this message if applicable, and I will ensure you and Paolo never hear from me again. I just ask that you note that if I do not hear anything back, I will be showing up one day in Paisley; and whilst I know it might become the story of when Laurraine gets arrested in Scotland, I say handcuffs behold.  



Respectfully,


Laurraine-Marcelle Gereige 




To Paolo:



I discovered you through the grapevine of a boy I collided into 7 months ago on a cruise for dialogue time, but I was so engrossed in the kid that all I could get myself to do when he played 'Iron Sky' in reference to what I was saying, was take a photo of his radio’s screen within his file (a protocol of mine when something someone shows me tastes too good not to research, and I gotta keep focus on them). Now this revolutionary boy was not the elephant I seek in self, so I had to stop looking at him that way before I truly started, and I never got back to that file coz it was tough enough to by the second contain and place that collision that lasted but a weekend (only 5 weeks ago did my yelling at the gods concerning him stop). 



Then on February 29 as my phone stipulates, I had YouTube’s dizzy yet kind curation accompany my hours in the lab when 'Iron Sky' started playing. I thanked the base those first few seconds for doing what every good whisky does within holding together the insides and giving breath, then you started. After the first rise above love hate and fear you had my full attention, me who aches for fields of truth beyond the right and wrong. I took off gloves, went to phone, saw I was on the Abbey Road session, and could not stop watching and hearing you turn into god then nothing at all in one live expression. So I had to share you with the boy who is now epic friend, and I sent him the link in reference to what I was saying on our last dialogue. Then I remembered his file, that I had seen these words before, Iron Sky, Nutini, Abbey Road, and I sent him an apology with the photo I had taken of his radio on that first ride; as it was the second time such a thing happens, me sending him what time has shown he had taken impeccable measure to curate for our talks, and I like to pay only once for my mistakes.



Now I have learned from scientific verification that whilst a single occurrence could be deemed happenstance, another one whispers promises that patterns will soon ebb and unfold; which tickles us seasoned explorers into the knowing that staying the course will reveal absolutes we can find truth in galore. So when you tasted just as good that day as you did months ago, I made sure I moved on from replaying the Abbey Rd session of 'Iron Sky' (by that point the birds started singing with you and the AM light), and I let YouTube show me what it wanted me to see of yours next, which was 'Scream' the Sam’s BBQ session; and just like that you knocked me down kid, and for a Muay Thai girl that is the rarest and best of parts. Only those trained to hear the prayer in one's self contempt can explain how that session both sharpens and heals a girl instantly, and just with the knowing you exist. Then came the next round with your interviews, and I watched you answer questions with icebergs while remaining kind no matter what, and that alone on the daily would make my world stop. 



At this point I was ready to take the referee hostage long enough to promise you things, which made me pause instantly as I am super careful with the words I give, and the pause did what all pauses do in terms of making things die or grow, and I let it. It reminded me I can get pretty boy dizzy when I smell my own elephant scent thinking it belongs to another, and that I do have a natural inability to initially tell apart pyrite from gold; so I realized how necessary it was to declutter my perception of you, in order to actually verify you in the difficult ways that matter to the likes of me, Rango. Now within a rigorously tested given that I am incapable of the in-betweens despite my sanctimonious search for balance, the best option for me at that moment was to eliminate the boy entirely from the equation (especially that I had enough evidence from your words to indicate you already are the love you want), and focus exclusively on what the boy creates, and see what he’s really made of.  So I did what I always do to ensure music upholds the standards of Bach, Beethoven and Chopin, in that it keeps getting better the more I listen to it, and gave it a week of only Bach as a palate cleanser. I saw that beyond having of the old and the new, you do get better with time; which was the lights out moment of a knockout that I make it a point to live for. 



Listen, I know this is crazy at some level, but like Bukowski says “some people never go crazy, what truly horrible lives they must lead”. But like Pythagoras who closely learned two important things from Socrates says, “No man is truly free who cannot command himself”. And while you should have everything you need to know about me within these lines, let's limit the crazy here and propose the following:



Write and ask me whatever you want (I give word that I will answer in truth as far as I have gotten within not lying to myself - a must do daily exercise)  



Google is a great friend 



Background Check is a must



And know that once you have done what you need to do, and if you still wanna come out to Lebanon and share that bottle with me, an epic papa, and that toruk I spoke of; you and yours are most welcome in our home, anytime. 



I will end this monologue here and ask, are you with me Paolo? 



Can we be both Pygmalion and a Galatea who never leaves, each? 



Can we leave what we love and create behind, like pyramids with enough light and darkness to make the likes of Blaise Pascal think?



Can we do so without leaving each other’s ribs, nor reminding that we feed one another? 



In other words, can we break dem odds and figure out how to be entirely together, and absolutely free?



Let me know,



L



My Keys

How was I to know you’d just come along?
(And funk my life up)
Lips like they’ve been singing sexed up strawberry songs
(Just funk my life up)
Never heard it coming, thought it’s just another woman
With a shotgun in her hand
(Funk my life up)

She’s the bass, she’s the beat, she’s the rhythm, she’s the band
(Just funk my life up)
And the girl, so fine
Makes you wanna scream Hallelujah

Sly hands, spinning webs like silk
Beats are dripping on me, like spider milk
And I never heard the warning when I woke up this morning
With my sunshine on a drip

She’s my rock, she’s my bud, she’s tequila, she’s a trip
And that girl, so fine
Makes you wanna scream Hallelujah

How can I refuse? I’m not fit to chose
(Just funk my life up)
I said the only way I win is the way I lose
(Just funk my life up)
And I never got the script, I unzipped
Got a little bit wet up in my brain
She’s your church, she’s your sin, she’s atomic,
she’s the oh she’s the rain
And the girl, so fine you wanna scream
Yeah, yeah

She gets me silly, she’s like a trick on me
Hell, I don’t even know her name but yet she sticks to me
And in the climax she would scream with me
Yeah, she sticks to me
She gets me funny, she doesn’t want none of my money
So I pour it over her like gasoline
Light a match and then I’m back in my teens
Me and super girl smoking my green
Me and super girl smoking my green

Unload, reload, eyes back swinging,
Sweet thing, knows things, Jeff Beck sings
Roundhouse, going down…… Let’s go!
And the girl so fine makes you wanna scream Hallelujah
Hallelujah
Yeah, the girl, so fine, you wanna scream



Ileana

How was I to know you’d just come along?
(And funk my life up)
Lips like they’ve been singing sexed up strawberry songs
(Just funk my life up)
Never heard it coming, thought it’s just another woman
With a shotgun in her hand
(Funk my life up)

She’s the bass, she’s the beat, she’s the rhythm, she’s the band
(Just funk my life up)
And the girl, so fine
Makes you wanna scream Hallelujah

Sly hands, spinning webs like silk
Beats are dripping on me, like spider milk
And I never heard the warning when I woke up this morning
With my sunshine on a drip

She’s my rock, she’s my bud, she’s tequila, she’s a trip
And that girl, so fine
Makes you wanna scream Hallelujah

How can I refuse? I’m not fit to chose
(Just funk my life up)
I said the only way I win is the way I lose
(Just funk my life up)
And I never got the script, I unzipped
Got a little bit wet up in my brain
She’s your church, she’s your sin, she’s atomic,
she’s the oh she’s the rain
And the girl, so fine you wanna scream
Yeah, yeah

She gets me silly, she’s like a trick on me
Hell, I don’t even know her name but yet she sticks to me
And in the climax she would scream with me
Yeah, she sticks to me
She gets me funny, she doesn’t want none of my money
So I pour it over her like gasoline
Light a match and then I’m back in my teens
Me and super girl smoking my green
Me and super girl smoking my green

Unload, reload, eyes back swinging,
Sweet thing, knows things, Jeff Beck sings
Roundhouse, going down…… Let’s go!
And the girl so fine makes you wanna scream Hallelujah
Hallelujah
Yeah, the girl, so fine, you wanna scream



All comments from YouTube:

Davis Schulz

awessssooome!!!!

Laurraine-Marcelle Gereige

Here goes everything and nothing: Coz the Beirut blast could have affected the handwritten one in said bottle sent out on August 3rd, and a quick Google search showed Langley UK is where packages go to die,
A message in a bottle still large at sea (March 12, 6:27pm Greenwich Time +2):

So I am writing this fully aware I will most probably land on eyes rolling from yet another letter to Paolo that does nothing to put the bucks in the pocket, or an algorithm tailored to what I am sure is an omnipresent contact from humans that need to be spoken to the way Paolo and the Vipers do, telling you how much they love him for the ideas they have of him that make them find themselves. In either case I humbly ask human, or algorithm to do what they can to transmit the following letter to Paolo; a man whose expression made my world stop 13 days ago, and whom I suspect I was destined to learn to live and love with. A quick search of me will show you I am a scientist, so please know this suspicion has weight here, as does belief the rare moments destiny is kind enough to show itself.



And whilst I know the toll it takes on Paolo’s support system to ensure flawless filtration of what he needs to pay attention to on the daily, I hope you won’t blame a girl for trying to see if he would like to come out and play in quantum leaps; you see, I respect my regrets too much to not exercise my freedom in sending out this message, in a few bottles, as I love how impossible the boy is to directly reach.



And I would not be bothering you have I not learned from St. Exupéry’s fox to be very responsible with what I tame in this life. I am usually quite a creature of the face to face, so my immediate plan was to figure out how to yesterday show up in Paisley, at Paolo’s doorstep, with a bottle of 60.3% A’bunadh, asking he drink and sail with me for another bottle’s moment; but 11 years ago I tamed a toruk of a Great Dane that refuses to eat when I am not around, and is pushing the boundaries of age (as he does every day with the boundaries of love) a bit too far to be fit to travel. So here we are, and know I stand in utmost gratitude for your time. 



N.B: Some things are also lost on me, one of them would be your silence. So I propose a simple 'F**k Off' of sorts in reply to this message if applicable, and I will ensure you and Paolo never hear from me again. I just ask that you note that if I do not hear anything back, I will be showing up one day in Paisley; and whilst I know it might become the story of when Laurraine gets arrested in Scotland, I say handcuffs behold.  



Respectfully,


Laurraine-Marcelle Gereige 




To Paolo:



I discovered you through the grapevine of a boy I collided into 7 months ago on a cruise for dialogue time, but I was so engrossed in the kid that all I could get myself to do when he played 'Iron Sky' in reference to what I was saying, was take a photo of his radio’s screen within his file (a protocol of mine when something someone shows me tastes too good not to research, and I gotta keep focus on them). Now this revolutionary boy was not the elephant I seek in self, so I had to stop looking at him that way before I truly started, and I never got back to that file coz it was tough enough to by the second contain and place that collision that lasted but a weekend (only 5 weeks ago did my yelling at the gods concerning him stop). 



Then on February 29 as my phone stipulates, I had YouTube’s dizzy yet kind curation accompany my hours in the lab when 'Iron Sky' started playing. I thanked the base those first few seconds for doing what every good whisky does within holding together the insides and giving breath, then you started. After the first rise above love hate and fear you had my full attention, me who aches for fields of truth beyond the right and wrong. I took off gloves, went to phone, saw I was on the Abbey Road session, and could not stop watching and hearing you turn into god then nothing at all in one live expression. So I had to share you with the boy who is now epic friend, and I sent him the link in reference to what I was saying on our last dialogue. Then I remembered his file, that I had seen these words before, Iron Sky, Nutini, Abbey Road, and I sent him an apology with the photo I had taken of his radio on that first ride; as it was the second time such a thing happens, me sending him what time has shown he had taken impeccable measure to curate for our talks, and I like to pay only once for my mistakes.



Now I have learned from scientific verification that whilst a single occurrence could be deemed happenstance, another one whispers promises that patterns will soon ebb and unfold; which tickles us seasoned explorers into the knowing that staying the course will reveal absolutes we can find truth in galore. So when you tasted just as good that day as you did months ago, I made sure I moved on from replaying the Abbey Rd session of 'Iron Sky' (by that point the birds started singing with you and the AM light), and I let YouTube show me what it wanted me to see of yours next, which was 'Scream' the Sam’s BBQ session; and just like that you knocked me down kid, and for a Muay Thai girl that is the rarest and best of parts. Only those trained to hear the prayer in one's self contempt can explain how that session both sharpens and heals a girl instantly, and just with the knowing you exist. Then came the next round with your interviews, and I watched you answer questions with icebergs while remaining kind no matter what, and that alone on the daily would make my world stop. 



At this point I was ready to take the referee hostage long enough to promise you things, which made me pause instantly as I am super careful with the words I give, and the pause did what all pauses do in terms of making things die or grow, and I let it. It reminded me I can get pretty boy dizzy when I smell my own elephant scent thinking it belongs to another, and that I do have a natural inability to initially tell apart pyrite from gold; so I realized how necessary it was to declutter my perception of you, in order to actually verify you in the difficult ways that matter to the likes of me, Rango. Now within a rigorously tested given that I am incapable of the in-betweens despite my sanctimonious search for balance, the best option for me at that moment was to eliminate the boy entirely from the equation (especially that I had enough evidence from your words to indicate you already are the love you want), and focus exclusively on what the boy creates, and see what he’s really made of.  So I did what I always do to ensure music upholds the standards of Bach, Beethoven and Chopin, in that it keeps getting better the more I listen to it, and gave it a week of only Bach as a palate cleanser. I saw that beyond having of the old and the new, you do get better with time; which was the lights out moment of a knockout that I make it a point to live for. 



Listen, I know this is crazy at some level, but like Bukowski says “some people never go crazy, what truly horrible lives they must lead”. But like Pythagoras who closely learned two important things from Socrates says, “No man is truly free who cannot command himself”. And while you should have everything you need to know about me within these lines, let's limit the crazy here and propose the following:



Write and ask me whatever you want (I give word that I will answer in truth as far as I have gotten within not lying to myself - a must do daily exercise)  



Google is a great friend 



Background Check is a must



And know that once you have done what you need to do, and if you still wanna come out to Lebanon and share that bottle with me, an epic papa, and that toruk I spoke of; you and yours are most welcome in our home, anytime. 



I will end this monologue here and ask, are you with me Paolo? 



Can we be both Pygmalion and a Galatea who never leaves, each? 



Can we leave what we love and create behind, like pyramids with enough light and darkness to make the likes of Blaise Pascal think?



Can we do so without leaving each other’s ribs, nor reminding that we feed one another? 



In other words, can we break dem odds and figure out how to be entirely together, and absolutely free?



Let me know,



L

Pepsi Fire

I hope my reply brought you back 2 years later (:

AT

I ADORE this performance!!!

Sara Hornbeck

He has come a long way from some new shoes!

Daniel Nadgrabski

All his Albums.....take me away. Everytime i listen i feel.....i have to be a better man🍺✊

Vitton

Where are you Paolo? The ones with good music taste miss you...

John Barnes

He's actually a carpenter now .no bs .he learned the trade the last few yrss and doesn't like fame ,he could have any woman if he wanted but stayed local to where he grew up , obviously he still plays music and will release more albums, said he just likes the change

Conor Irvine

@Cynthia M defo 🏴󠁧󠁢󠁳󠁣󠁴󠁿🏴󠁧󠁢󠁳󠁣󠁴󠁿🏴󠁧󠁢󠁳󠁣󠁴󠁿

Vitton

@Liv Marlin No you didn't Liv...thanks for spreading the hoax tho: On Monday (March 22) the singer's reps officially confirmed that Paolo Nutini is not dead. “He joins the long list of celebrities who have been victimized by this hoax. He's still alive and well, stop believing what you see on the Internet,” they said.

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