Last night I was singing in a city that ran on doors

I'm standing in a city where every building is just a door propped against the sky, and the doors are the only public transport. I step through one that smells like my old coach's studio, and on the other side I'm on a rooftop and the pigeons all have tiny rehearsal marks chalked on their wings. I woke up half-wishing I could live inside the acoustics of that place — every doorway had its own reverb.