Year After Year

How did I get here? Year after year Lead to this This day full of fear Fear that I won't say the right things at the funeral No Fear that I won't have the right pictures How crazy Wasting time in the present to focus on the funeral I hate it My computer holds everything but its disorganized My mind feels disorganized enough already Oh well Technology, I hope you can shape things up past and present Mostly future Regret or resent? Pictures everywhere Will I find the right ones? "Every occasion I'll be ready for the funeral" Again, How did I get here? Year after year Lead to this day of fear.