“No Nosso Mar” is a joyful, tongue-in-cheek invitation to dive into an underwater Carnaval. The fishy narrator reminds us of a familiar lesson: the algae always seem greener in someone else’s ocean, yet life on land is full of stress, saltlessness, and even frying pans of dendê oil. Down below, every current carries rhythm, coral reefs replace city lights, and there is room for carefree swimming instead of endless hustling.
Tiago Abravanel turns the sea into a Brazilian bloco, listing dozens of fish that trade fins for instruments—acará shakes a ganzá, tucunaré beats an afoxé, and even the mighty cação strums a violão. The message rides this carnival groove: celebrate the community you already have, enjoy the music around you, and stop wishing for the “dream” up above. It might be muddy at times, but under these waves there is no drama, only dance.