Medicine Box
Finn Wolfhard photo (7:5) for Tunnels

Introduction

Shrinking the world down

There is a specific kind of coping that does not look like coping at all. It looks like drinking eight beers and watching a movie, walking home alone, taking the long way. "Tunnels" is built entirely out of those moments, and the genius of it is that Wolfhard never editorializes. He just shows you the day and lets the refrain do the heavy lifting.

The closed tunnel is not a crisis. It is a choice. And the whole song is about why someone keeps making it.

Verse 1

Fear answered with philosophy

The song opens on something genuinely raw. The narrator admits to being afraid of death, which is about as vulnerable as a first line gets. Then someone responds with something almost too calm to land properly:

"You said remember before your birth"

It is a real philosophical move, the idea that non-existence before you were born was fine, so non-existence after should be too. But the narrator does not feel reassured. The tunnels close again anyway. The gap between a good argument and actual comfort is the first crack this song opens up.

Verse 2

Ordinary chaos, small kindnesses

The second verse is jarring on purpose. "Hot dog shit on the pavement" lands right after existential fear, and that whiplash is the point. Life keeps being gross and small and specific no matter what you are carrying internally.

The verse strings together a few small human moments. Someone says you look nice. Someone else says she is not home. A sister says you are not alone. None of it resolves anything, but it softens the edges just enough to keep the day moving. The tunnel vision creeps back in at the end of the verse, and it almost reads like a relief.

Chorus

The refrain as a pulse

"My tunnels closed again" repeats without variation, and that is exactly right. It is not escalating. It is not asking for sympathy. It lands the same way every time because that is how this feeling works. It just keeps coming back.

Verse 3

Ritual as self-medication

Eight beers and Boogie Nights is one of the most honest confessional images in the song. The detail that Wolfhard forced others to watch before walking home alone adds something wry and a little sad. There is a version of connection happening, the shared movie, the company, and then it dissolves back into solitude the moment the night ends.

"Take the beltline to my place"

The walk home on the beltline feels almost meditative. Long enough to be intentional. The tunnel vision is not just a feeling here. It is a literal path.

Verse 4

Movement as meaning

Speakers and bikes and taking it all the way down the block. The imagery is loose but it has a texture to it, the particular pleasure of being in motion, music on, world narrowed to the block in front of you. This is what tunnel vision actually offers: clarity through reduction. Everything outside the immediate moment stops mattering for a minute.

Verse 5

One small flash of edge

This is the only moment in the song where something resembling anger surfaces:

"Cross my line again I swear you'll mind again"

It is brief and almost throwaway, but it matters. The narrator is not just passive inside their closed-off world. There is a boundary there, a version of self-protection that has teeth. The fireworks in the fog frame it perfectly. Something explosive happening inside something that muffles and obscures it.

Outro

The loop without resolution

The outro does not build toward anything. It just repeats the refrain until it fades, and the final pivot to "close to tunnel vision yeah" sits somewhere between surrender and satisfaction. The "yeah" is doing quiet work there. It is not defiant. It is not defeated. It is someone who has made their peace with a limited view, at least for tonight.

Conclusion

The song opened with a fear of death that could not be argued away. It closes with a narrator who has retreated further in, walking home alone, tunnels shut, and honestly? not entirely unhappy about it. "Tunnels" understands something that a lot of anxiety songs miss: the coping mechanism is not always a problem to be solved. Sometimes the tunnel is just where you live, and the song is generous enough not to judge that.

Related Posts