Reaper Called Death The Tiger Lillies

There is a reaper
He is called Death
He sharpens his knife
So take your last breath
Cutting much better
Soon he will cut
Each one around you
Down will be shut

What today is still green
And fresh stands
Tomorrow the noble
Is blown like the sand
The beautiful hyacinth
The heavenly key
Cut down the flowers
You die, you and me

Many hundred thousands
He cuts them and shows
What falls under the sickle:
The lily and the rose
He will extinguish
The solid and the fickle
Your imperial crown
Falls under his sickle