the Golden gun

i'm a pauper
but with lots of money:
if you think that's funny
well, i'd say okay.
we're both running away from the Golden gun
little girls and boys,
waiting for the final noise
which will mean we're dead:
some found sunning, some still in bed.
i doubled back,
read the headlines all black and blue.
it was Sunday and i came for you,
but you shook me off
like a button.