That's about the Scythe of it

 Now Scythe me down

Ammerdown

With a sweep of your blade

The axe falls in the hay

Like the battles now past

And on a cool June day

As the snails slimed the grass

We not so grim reapers reaped

What lay in our path

Reap what you sow

Don't sow what won't last

The seeds of summer days

Lie in the earth of autumn past

Now scythe me down

Like heads of grass

Seeds heads, pop

Tall storks clasp

Lie like sticks

Of warriors past

Now scythe the clover

Scythe the thistle

As time scythes the lover

And the last train's whistle

Blowing passed

Like seeds in the air

Scything go the swifts

And swallows without a care

Scything in the willows

Twisting over the pond

Scything down

The stinging nettles

Of their magic wand

Giver of the poisons darts

Scything go the ants at heart

Cropping through the leaf

Scything pincer teeth