Shane is a dynamic and charismatic artist whose performances are jaw-dropping in their expressive power. His delivery follows that of slam poetry and his performances and personae are at the vanguard of the live poetry circuit in the U.S., Canada & the UK.
His written work has been well received in Canada & the UK. The initial print-run for his book Visiting Hours dwarfed the industry standards for poetry books. Visiting Hours was recommended as a Book of the Year 2005 by the Guardian and the Globe and Mail.
Together with Mighty Mike McGee and C. R. Avery, he is the co-founder of spoken word, "talk rock" trio, Tons of Fun University.
More Often Than Sometimes
Shane Koyczan Lyrics
Jump to: Overall Meaning ↴ Line by Line Meaning ↴
way back when we first met,
I’d point to the sunset and say,
“I drew that for you.
Every now and then you can catch it wrinkling in the rain.”
See, I can talk a good game from the stage,
but if you want to gauge the romantic things said when we’re messing up the bed,
the best I can give you is,
we’re totally humping.”
Regardless,
there’s something beautiful about stating the obvious.
All of us do it in those moments when we can’t believe it we have to say it.
It’s like pinching yourself to make sure you’re awake.
Take for example something as simple as touching someone;
we so often say, “You’re so soft”.
And the person that touched them last may have said it for the twenty-eighth time;
but today,
I’m number twenty-nine.
And I’m not saying it for her benefit; I’m saying it for mine.
Because there’s almost seven billion people in the world,
half of which are men, the number of them is 3.5 billion…
Pretty fucking cool that I was number twenty-nine.
And once upon a time I was first in line for a girl with freckles and strawberry blonde hair.
We loved like an electric chair hooked up to a nuclear power plant and plugged into the sun,
and everything we did had never been done.
I woke up with a smile the next morning that told the world
“I’m number one.”
I think of her more often than sometimes.
And if she ever hears this,
I want her to know that our first kiss tasted like pepper.
I met her on June 27th.
That year it was Yellowknife’s first day of continual light
and despite the sun not setting that night we each went home alone,
Even though our parents told us, “Be home before dark.”
We could’ve stayed out for weeks.
Could’ve watched the way the sun leaks like liquid over the horizon, casting shadows over all the right places of a bargain bin where love was 75% off, and we were collectively 25 cents away from forever.
There are times in the North
when the sun never sets.
And it gets confusing when we ask ourselves questions like,
“Is it too late,
or too early?”
More often than sometimes we didn’t care.
We loved like two games of solitaire waiting to be played by one another.
Her mother once asked me, “do you love her?”
And I said if there were one million teachers breathing down my neck telling me that the answer is no,
I would say yes.
I guess that was enough for her,
because that girl’s father palmed me a condom and wished me a happy birthday.
Even now there’s no way to tell… was that awkward, or creepy?
We loved like two hit-men hell-bent on assassinating regret.
Her orgasm wet gremlin multiplying itself into another.
Her younger brother knocked on the bedroom door asking, “What are you guys doing in there?”
And somewhere amid the awesome and the amazing we replied in unison,
“Studying.”
And technically we were.
I wrote notes on her skin in flesh toned permanent ink that would sink and set inside as I tried to underline the important parts of her:
Bellybutton,
birthmark,
collarbone.
Wrote notes explaining that hers felt like silk stretched over stone.
I said, “You’re so soft.”
She smiled and said, “Duh.”
Followed by, “my bellybutton is not an erogenous zone.”
And I said, “I hate that word,” and she asked, “Which one?” and I said, “Erogenous.”
I told her, “There’s beauty in the obvious, and your bellybutton,
that’s where you started, it’s where cells divided and grew into you
So let me do what students do best, you can test me later but right now let me study.”
She smiled and said,
“You’re lucky this is a take-home test, boy.”
I think of the beauty in the obvious,
the way it forces us to admit how it exists.
The way it insists on being pointed out like a bloody nose, or how every time it snows there’s always someone around to say,
“It’s snowing.”
But the obvious isn’t showing off,
it’s simply reminding us that time passes,
and somewhere along the way we grow up.
Not perfect,
but up and out.
It teaches us something about time, that we are all ticking and tocking.
Walking the fine line between days and weeks, as if each second speaks of years, and each month has years listening to forever, but never hearing anything beyond centuries swallowed up by millenniums, as if time was calculating the sums needed to fill the empty belly of eternity.
We so seldom
understand each other.
But if understanding is neither here nor there, and the universe is infinite,
understand that no matter where we go we will always be smack dab in the middle of nowhere.
All we can do is share some piece of ourselves,
and hope that it’s remembered.
Hope that we meant something to someone.
My chest is a cannon that I have used to take aim and shoot my heart upon this world.
I love the way an uncurled fist becomes a hand again,
because when I take notes, I need it to underline the important parts of you:
Happy,
sad,
lovely.
Battle cry ballistic like a disaster, a lipstick earth-quaking and taking out the monuments of my hollow yesterdays.
We’ll always have the obvious.
It reminds us who and where we are, it lives like a heart shape, like a jar that we hand to others and ask, “Can you open this for me?”
We always get the same answer:
“Not without breaking it.”
More often than sometimes, I say go for it.
In Shane Koyczan's song "More Often Than Sometimes," the singer expresses his love for someone from his past, whom he thinks about "more often than sometimes." He reflects on moments from their relationship, such as their first kiss tasting like pepper, using romantic cliches, and how they loved like two hitmen who wanted to assassinate regret. He also speaks about the beauty in the obvious things in life and how they teach us something about time. He underlines the importance of sharing a piece of ourselves with others and hoping they remember us.
The song is an ode to Shane Koyczan's ex-girlfriend, who he dated for five years. She left him, and he was in a state of emotional turmoil, which inspired him to write this song. He wanted to express his love for her in a creative way, while also reflecting on the importance of the little things in life.
Line by Line Meaning
If I knew what I know now then,
Looking back on our relationship, if I had the knowledge I have now, I would have done things differently.
way back when we first met,
Referring to the early stages of our relationship.
I’d point to the sunset and say,
I would gesture towards the beauty of the sunset and express my love for you.
“I drew that for you.
I want you to know that I appreciate the beauty of the world and I want to share it with you.
Every now and then you can catch it wrinkling in the rain.”
Sometimes, when it rains, you can notice the wrinkles and distortion in the sunset's beauty.
See, I can talk a good game from the stage,
I may appear confident and eloquent when performing, but...
but if you want to gauge the romantic things said when we’re messing up the bed,
If you want to truly understand the romantic things I say during intimate moments...
the best I can give you is,
all I can offer is...
“Oh my god,
the best I can come up with is...
we’re totally humping.”
we are engaged in passionate physical intimacy.
Regardless,
Nevertheless,
there’s something beautiful about stating the obvious.
There is beauty in expressing the obvious truths and feelings.
All of us do it in those moments when we can’t believe it we have to say it.
In moments of overwhelming emotion, we often feel compelled to vocalize our thoughts and feelings.
It’s like pinching yourself to make sure you’re awake.
It's a way to confirm the reality and intensity of the moment.
Take for example something as simple as touching someone;
Consider, for instance, the act of physically touching someone;
we so often say, “You’re so soft”.
We frequently express admiration for the softness and tenderness of their touch.
And the person that touched them last may have said it for the twenty-eighth time;
Someone else may have complimented their softness twenty-eight times before,
but today,
but now,
I’m number twenty-nine.
it's my turn to express this sentiment, making me the twenty-ninth person to do so.
And I’m not saying it for her benefit; I’m saying it for mine.
I don't say it for her sake; I say it to remind myself of the specialness of this moment.
Because there’s almost seven billion people in the world,
Considering the vast population of the world,
half of which are men, the number of them is 3.5 billion…
since approximately half of the world's population is male, that amounts to around 3.5 billion men...
Pretty fucking cool that I was number twenty-nine.
It's quite remarkable that I had the opportunity to experience this with her, being the twenty-ninth person out of billions.
And once upon a time I was first in line for a girl with freckles and strawberry blonde hair.
There was a time when I was the most significant person in the life of a girl with freckles and strawberry blonde hair.
We loved like an electric chair hooked up to a nuclear power plant and plugged into the sun,
Our love was intense and powerful, like an electric chair connected to a nuclear power plant and drawing energy from the sun.
and everything we did had never been done.
We engaged in unique and extraordinary experiences together.
I woke up with a smile the next morning that told the world
The following morning, I couldn't help but smile, radiating joy and contentment.
“I’m number one.”
I felt like the most important person in the world.
I think of her more often than sometimes.
She is always on my mind, occupying a significant space in my thoughts.
And if she ever hears this,
If she ever listens to this message,
I want her to know that our first kiss tasted like pepper.
I want her to remember the unique flavor of our first kiss, reminiscent of pepper.
I met her on June 27th.
Our initial meeting took place on June 27th.
That year it was Yellowknife’s first day of continual light
That year marked the first day in Yellowknife when there was continuous daylight.
and despite the sun not setting that night we each went home alone,
Despite the lack of darkness due to the sun not setting, we parted ways individually.
Even though our parents told us, “Be home before dark.”
Despite our parents' instruction to return home before it got dark outside.
We could’ve stayed out for weeks.
We could have spent weeks together without worrying about the passing of time.
Could’ve watched the way the sun leaks like liquid over the horizon, casting shadows over all the right places of a bargain bin where love was 75% off, and we were collectively 25 cents away from forever.
We could have observed the sun's gradual descent, creating shadows in all the perfect spots, in a discounted realm where love was abundant and almost within our grasp of eternity.
There are times in the North
In the northern regions,
when the sun never sets.
there are periods when the sun remains in the sky without setting.
And it gets confusing when we ask ourselves questions like,
In such moments, we find ourselves uncertain when pondering questions such as,
“Is it too late,
Is it too far into the day,
or too early?”
or is it still too early in the morning?
More often than sometimes we didn’t care.
Frequently, we would disregard such concerns.
We loved like two games of solitaire waiting to be played by one another.
Our love was akin to two games of solitaire eagerly anticipating the opportunity to be enjoyed by each other.
Her mother once asked me, “do you love her?”
On one occasion, her mother inquired, 'Do you love her?'
And I said if there were one million teachers breathing down my neck telling me that the answer is no,
In response, I conveyed that even if a million teachers were pressuring me to deny it,
I would say yes.
I would still wholeheartedly affirm my love for her.
I guess that was enough for her,
My response seemed acceptable to her,
because that girl’s father palmed me a condom and wished me a happy birthday.
Subsequently, her father discreetly handed me a condom and extended birthday wishes.
Even now there’s no way to tell… was that awkward, or creepy?
Even to this day, it remains unclear whether that encounter was awkward or unsettling.
We loved like two hit-men hell-bent on assassinating regret.
Our love was fierce and determined, aimed at eradicating any potential for future regrets.
Her orgasm wet gremlin multiplying itself into another.
Her orgasm produced a cascade of pleasure and ecstasy, generating further intense sensations.
Her younger brother knocked on the bedroom door asking, “What are you guys doing in there?”
Interrupting our intimate moments, her younger brother rapped on the bedroom door and inquired about our activities.
And somewhere amid the awesome and the amazing we replied in unison,
In the midst of our awe-inspiring and incredible encounter, we responded in harmony,
“Studying.”
"We are focusing on academic pursuits."
And technically we were.
Technically, that statement was true,
I wrote notes on her skin in flesh toned permanent ink that would sink and set inside as I tried to underline the important parts of her:
I traced words and phrases onto her skin using permanent ink that matched her complexion, ensuring that these markings would become a permanent part of her. This was my attempt to highlight the significant aspects of her physical form:
Bellybutton,
Her belly button,
birthmark,
her birthmark,
collarbone.
her collarbone.
Wrote notes explaining that hers felt like silk stretched over stone.
I wrote annotations describing how her skin felt like smooth silk draped over solid stone.
I said, “You’re so soft.”
I uttered the words, "You are incredibly tender and gentle."
She smiled and said, “Duh.”
She responded with a smile and a playful acknowledgment, "Obviously."
Followed by, “my bellybutton is not an erogenous zone.”
To clarify, she added humorously, "Just so you know, my belly button is not a sexually sensitive area."
And I said, “I hate that word,” and she asked, “Which one?” and I said, “Erogenous.”
I expressed my distaste for the word 'erogenous,' and she humorously inquired about which particular word caused my aversion. I specifically voiced my dislike for the term 'erogenous.'
I told her, “There’s beauty in the obvious, and your bellybutton,
I explained to her the concept of finding beauty in the obvious, using her belly button as an example.
that’s where you started, it’s where cells divided and grew into you
I elaborated on the significance of her belly button, highlighting that it's the point of origin where cells divided and developed into her unique being.
So let me do what students do best, you can test me later but right now let me study.”
Allow me to perform as most students do, and you can evaluate my proficiency in due course, but for now, let me closely examine and appreciate every aspect of you.
She smiled and said,
In response, she beamed with joy and replied,
“You’re lucky this is a take-home test, boy.”
"You're fortunate that this is an assignment you can take with you, boy."
I think of the beauty in the obvious,
I consider the worthiness of embracing and acknowledging the obvious things in life.
the way it forces us to admit how it exists.
The obvious prompts us to acknowledge its existence and importance.
The way it insists on being pointed out like a bloody nose, or how every time it snows there’s always someone around to say,
It stubbornly demands attention, just like a nosebleed or how people always feel compelled to exclaim when it starts snowing,
“It’s snowing.”
"Look, it's snowing!"
But the obvious isn’t showing off,
However, the obvious doesn't try to boast or show off,
it’s simply reminding us that time passes,
it merely serves as a reminder that time continues to progress,
and somewhere along the way we grow up.
and at some point, we mature and develop.
Not perfect,
We may not be flawless,
but up and out.
but we keep moving forward and upward.
It teaches us something about time, that we are all ticking and tocking.
It imparts a lesson about the nature of time, emphasizing that we all have our own temporal journey.
Walking the fine line between days and weeks, as if each second speaks of years, and each month has years listening to forever, but never hearing anything beyond centuries swallowed up by millenniums, as if time was calculating the sums needed to fill the empty belly of eternity.
We navigate the delicate balance between days and weeks, where each passing second appears to contain the weight of years. Each month presents itself with a sense of enduring permanence, yet it still fails to reach the expanse of centuries consumed by millennia. It's as if time diligently computes the necessary increments to satisfy the insatiable appetite of eternity.
We so seldom
It is infrequent that we
understand each other.
truly comprehend and fully grasp one another.
But if understanding is neither here nor there, and the universe is infinite,
Yet, if complete understanding proves elusive, and considering the infinite expanse of the universe,
understand that no matter where we go we will always be smack dab in the middle of nowhere.
recognize that no matter where we find ourselves, we will always be positioned right in the heart of insignificance.
All we can do is share some piece of ourselves,
In this vast expanse of existence, all we can do is offer a fragment of our true selves.
and hope that it’s remembered.
We can only hope that this piece of us will be remembered and cherished.
Hope that we meant something to someone.
We long for the assurance that we held significance to another person.
My chest is a cannon that I have used to take aim and shoot my heart upon this world.
My chest serves as a weaponized cannon from which I have propelled my heart out into this world.
I love the way an uncurled fist becomes a hand again,
I cherish the transformation of a clenched fist into an open hand,
because when I take notes, I need it to underline the important parts of you:
as it reminds me to pay attention to and emphasize the significant aspects of your being:
Happy,
your happiness,
sad,
your sadness,
lovely.
your loveliness.
Battle cry ballistic like a disaster, a lipstick earth-quaking and taking out the monuments of my hollow yesterdays.
My battle cry is as fierce and powerful as a catastrophic event, demolishing the reminders of my empty past.
We’ll always have the obvious.
We will forever have the comfort and solace of the evident truths.
It reminds us who and where we are, it lives like a heart shape, like a jar that we hand to others and ask, “Can you open this for me?”
The obvious serves as a reminder of our identity and place in the world. It exists as a symbol of love and vulnerability, like a delicate jar entrusted to others with the question, 'Can you help me open this?'
We always get the same answer:
Consistently, we receive the same response:
“Not without breaking it.”
"No, it cannot be opened without causing some damage."
More often than sometimes, I say go for it.
More frequently than not, I encourage taking the risk and breaking it open.
Contributed by Violet V. Suggest a correction in the comments below.
@gettingby9807
Lyrics:
If I knew what I know now then, way back when we first met,
I’d point to the sunset and say,
“I drew that for you. Every now and then you can catch it wrinkling in the rain.”
See I can talk a good game from the stage,
but if you want to gage a romantic thing said when we were messing up the bed the best I can give you is,
“Oh my God we’re totally humping.”
Regardless, there’s something beautiful about stating the obvious.
All of us do it. In the moments when we can’t believe it we have to say it.
It’s like pinching yourself to make sure you’re awake.
Take, for example, something as simple as touching someone.
We so often say, “You’re so soft.”
And the last person to touch them may have said it for the twenty-eighth time but today, I’m number twenty-nine
and I’m not saying it for her benefit, I’m saying it for mine.
Because there’s almost 7 billion people in the world, half of which are men, and when the number of them is 3.5 billion,
it’s pretty fuckin’ cool that I was number twenty-nine.
And once upon a time I was first in line for a girl with freckles and strawberry blonde hair.
We loved like an electric chair hooked up to a nuclear power plant and plugged into the sun, and everything we did had never been done.
I woke up the next morning with a smile that told the world, “I’m number one.”
I think of her, more often than sometimes, and if she ever hears this I want her to know that our first kiss tasted like pepper.
I met her on June 27th. That year it was Yellowknife’s first day of continual light and, despite the sun not setting that night,
we each went home alone, even though our parents told us, “Be home before dark.”
We could’ve stayed out for weeks, could’ve watched the way the sun leaks like liquid over the horizon, casting shadows over all the right places of a bargain bin where love was 75% off, and we were collectively 25¢ away from forever.
There are times in the North when the sun never sets.
And it gets confusing when we ask ourselves questions like,
“Is it too late, or too early?”
More often than sometimes we didn’t care.
We lived like two games of solitaire waiting to be played by one another.
Her mother once asked me, “Do you love her?”
And I said if there were 1 million teachers breathing down my neck telling me that the answer is no, I would say yes.
I guess that was enough for her, because that girl’s father palmed me a condom and wished me a happy birthday.
Even now there’s no way to tell, was that awkward or creepy?
We loved like two hit-men hellbent on assassinating regret. Her orgasm was a wet gremlin multiplying itself into another.
Her younger brother knocked on the bedroom door asking, “What are you guys doing in there?”
And somewhere amid the awesome and all of the in between we replied in unison, “Studying.”
And we were.
I wrote notes on her skin in flesh toned permanent ink that would sink and sit inside as I tried to underline the important parts of her: bellybutton, birthmark, collarbone. And I wrote notes explaining that hers felt like silk stretched over stone.
I told her, “You’re so soft.” She smiled and said, “Duh.” followed by, “My bellybutton is not an erogenous zone.”
And I said, “I hate that word,” and she asked, “Which one?” and I said, “Erogenous.” I told her, “There’s beauty in the obvious, and your bellybutton is where you started, it’s where cells divided and grew into you so let me do what students do best, you can test me later but right now let me study.” She said, “You’re lucky this is a take home test, boy.”
I highlighted and double underlined. Lips.
I think of the beauty in the obvious, the way it forces us to admit how it exists, the way it insists on being pointed out like a bloody nose, or how every time it snows there is always someone around to say, “It’s snowing.”
But the obvious isn’t showing off, it’s only reminding us that time passes, and that somewhere along the way we grow up.
Not perfect, but up and out.
It teaches us something about time, that we are all ticking and tocking, walking the fine line between days and weeks as if each second speaks of years and each month has years listening to forever but never hearing anything beyond centuries swallowed up by millenniums, as if time was calculating the sums needed to fill the empty belly of eternity.
We so seldom understand each other.
But if understanding is neither here nor there, and the universe is infinite, then understand that no matter where we go we will always be smack dab in the middle of nowhere. All we can do is share some piece of ourselves, and hope that it’s remembered.
Hope that we meant something to someone.
My chest is a cannon that I have used to take aim and shoot my heart upon this world.
I love the way an uncurled fist becomes a hand again, because when I take notes, I need it to underline the important parts of you:
happy, sad, lovely.
Battle cry ballistic like a disaster or a lipstick earthquaking and taking out the monuments of all my hollow yesterdays.
We’ll always have the obvious.
It reminds us who and where we are, it lives like a heart shape, like a jar that we hand to others and ask, “Can you open this for me?”
We always get the same answer: “Not without breaking it.”
More often than sometimes, I say go for it
@BeyonIllusion
It's hard to Believe that we live in a world so black and white bleaque that someone who expresses themselves freely is unique and is treated as a freak being yourself is always said but not treated as an essential we all know it's crucial but don't seem to care we walk around as tamed animals not asking questions no one seems to mention how the only interactions we have are through these phones
we are all pawns the kings are too just don't know it till there's another tragedy like an oil spill then all our fussing about caring becomes nil cause it's not in America so why should we care when 9/11 happened the whole nation was staring but, when all those innocent children in Afghanistan were murdered no one batted an eye just shouted "America!"proving that all we say is lies we talk a big game and never seem too tame till something important happens and we all cower in fear
The youth of today and tomorrow have no true role model all of our toddlers will never know what potential they have nor what they will have to face in a few years all the tears the laughs the naps all the name calling and the bully's the fights and the restless nights it's unfortunate the excuses we make, it sounds like a broken record "kids are cruel" "it will happen" it is no longer in our power what happens everyday sop stories tower with every true story comes 100
People looking for glory absolute fakes social snakes that suck everything out of you and leave they pout when you figure them out its ridiculous how inconspicuous the evil people and problems seem to be that some kids would rather leave this earth then stay and try and live until they die and fight to stand out but, no they're out.
It's hard to Believe that we live in a world so black and white bleaque that someone who expresses themselves freely is unique and is treated as a freak, ...
Idk I've seen people posting their poems
@meima4313
I love how he explains a sexual act but in a way that isn't distasteful but beautiful like it should be.
@gavinstarks2761
Meima Animesebas agreed, unfortunately today it's just a thing they have and never understand what it should be.
@kierstynjohnson7794
"Oh my god, we are totally humping"
@hexadecim8
Fuckin, right ?
@ferrypanda
@@kierstynjohnson7794 😂😂😂
@skeliskull
I love that line "We’ll always have the obvious. It reminds us who and where we are, it lives like a heart shape, like a jar that we hand to others and ask, “Can you open this for me?” We always get the same answer: “Not without breaking it.” More often than sometimes, I say go for it." *impactful
@stino22
I really like that one too. For some reason it gets to me.
@TheJPJT1234
I could listen to him for hours... It's like reaches into me and unravels to tangled mess of hurt and pain, laying it out on the table like a map and plotting a course to happier times
@NoName-zi8le
❤❤❤❤
@pumpkinoligarchy6626
Okay, you are now one of my favorite people😻