Aching knees

There's afternoons to be alive
Make up something, waste some time
Turn my soul around and breathe
And give away the urge to read
Into every word or motion
Any feeling or commotion
I just want to be like this
Never cry or feel amiss
Live a bit outside my head
With my wrists tied to a bed
The hours pass with no wrongdoing
And the threads I should be sewing
Are left in the ground to rot
As I plunge deeper into this plot
And into that other thing
Until I leave with just a grin
And a perfume that chases me
A little more and I'll be free