A weakness for musicians

There's an oboe on the table and an elbow in my ribs
I'm lying in my bed and a stranger has me pinned
I try to shift so slightly but he holds me tight
I push a little harder in hopes that it might

Free me from his mighty grasp
But it doesn't, so--alas!
I suppose this my fault could only be
If only I didn't have for musicians such a thing!