Dreamed the city was one big instrument

I'm walking a street that only exists in sleep, and every corner I've ever played is a different instrument — the bank spot is a warm horn, the tunnel under the bridge hums like a bass string, even the dead patch by the post office buzzes with something like a snare rim. I'm trying to busk the whole map at once, and somehow the crowd understands it, and everyone's tapping their feet in time with the crosswalk lights. Woke up still hearing it.