About the Track:
Middle-Class Problems is a hilariously observant ode to the great modern British contradiction: suffering in comfort. Whitmore Way’s sharp lyrics capture latte dilemmas, house-hunting heartbreak, and pension panic with affectionate sarcasm and a knowing wink. It’s a toast to Jacob, and to all of us pretending to budget over brunch.
Lyrics:
[Verse 1]
Jacob paces in his semi-detached, socks battered on the floor
Moans at the rising cost of bills—can’t pay them, yet wants more
He scrolls Rightmove nightly for a dream he can’t ignore
And curses that wage bracket which keeps him feeling poor
[Pre-Chorus]
He says, “These mortgage lenders? Cruel, my deposit’s still undone.”
Then brags about his oat-milk latte—swears his life’s begun
He frets about retirement, but books a weekend trip
A quaint B&B by the coast—’cause hey, he’ll never skip
[Chorus]
These are Jacob’s middle class problems—watch him fuss and fire
Yet craft beer lines his fridge; his taste is never dire
He claims the cost of living’s high, it’s practically obscene
But come Sunday brunch, he’s sipping lattes, fancy and serene
He scrolls his feed with comedic wails, a well-rehearsed routine
Such is Jacob’s middle class tale, forever on the scene
[Verse 2]
He’s sick of endless renting—landlord’s upping all his fees
Longs for an Edwardian terrace steeped in proper English teas
Student debt gnaws at his mind, each month a dreaded share
Yet if a shiny gadget drops, he’s first to claim his fare
[Pre-Chorus]
He warns of job security, sure it’s gone before he’s done
Still dreams of summer in Tuscany—no matter what it costs for fun
He knows the world can be unfair, from start until the end
But if the Wi-Fi’s strong, he’ll soldier on—complaints he can suspend
[Verse 3]
He grumbles at his phone bill as his data charges soar
Then sulks about his car lease—“Why can’t it cost me less?” he roars
He talks of early retirement, but never saves the funds
Most Fridays find him at the pub, downing pints by the tons
[Bridge]
He swears he’ll pinch his pennies—oh, he tries (at least in thought)
Skipping avocado toast… sometimes—though not as often as he ought
He chuckles through the gloom, calling it British gallows wit
Dark laughter’s cheaper than therapy, so that’s the path he’ll stick
[Chorus – Reprise]
These are Jacob’s middle class problems—watch him fuss and fire
Yet craft beer stocks his fridge; his tastes rarely expire
He claims the cost of living’s cruel, a never-ending spree
But come Sunday brunch, he’s ordering that extra side with glee
He scrolls his feed with a mocking cringe, it’s all part of the show
Jacob’s middle class saga rolls on—no matter where he’ll go
[Outro]
So raise a glass to Jacob’s moans, comedic though they be
He’ll keep calm and carry on, as Brits do famously
That’s how he copes—through laughter, sighs, and well-timed sarcastic stress
He’ll soldier on year after year in polite, comedic mess