The first stage is denial go and google grief and death.
The Last Stage is acceptance but it ain't how you expect.
See all of life's a wager that your days are numbered with,
and if age is just a number, go as high as you can get.
She was always first in everything for me it's that way still.
The first true love I had, plus she's the first one to get killed.
If life is all a gamble then the adage don't add up,
they say age is just a number but the sum still takes you under.

Gray Confetti what a waste of lead and paper shedding pages shredding
Gray Confetti empty spaces spreading names from faces days and settings
Gray Confetti celebrated setting stages up and aging letting
Gray Confetti memories fade from every waking second days forgetting

I should have seen it comin' Twenty-Seven's too cliche.
And she'd never become Thirty like she wanted it that way.
Twenty-Eight's an even number and that could have been a sign,
cuz she always beat the odds I thought she might beat Twenty-Nine.

Gray Confetti celebrated setting stages up and aging letting
Gray Confetti memories fade from every waking second days forgetting

Of the "Five Stages of Grieving" Number Two's no good for me,
and I'd gladly trade Stage Four if I could haggle on Stage Three.
Stage Five is an illusion, don't be stupid, think it's done,
cuz the minute you get to it you realize you're still on One.