My friend had left to Magadan -
Take off your hats, men; take off your hats, men!
All by himself, all by himself -
Not in a jail van, not in a jail van.
Itís not because his luck run thin,
Itís not despite of someoneís will,
Not for the talk, that heís oddball -
Itís just his call. Itís just his call.
And if some folks would say "How dumb!
How could he choose this? How could he loose this?
Since there are only prison camps,
With all those killers, with all those killers..."
But he replies: ďDonít fall for lies -
They have no more than Moscow has!Ē
And then he packs his bag and gone -
To Magadan! To Magadan!
Itís not that Iím too old to run -
Iíd jump off train steps when night is blackest,
But I donít move to Magadan,
Forgetting habits and closing brackets.
But I will sing, while strumming strings,
Of all those things for him to see,
Of all those things I never done -
In Magadan, In Magadan.
My friend heís moving there to live -
Heís done with steering, heís done with steering.
The guards would not be there to beat -
Heís volunteering, heís volunteering.
And I will live to Godís own plan,
But maybe also - Magadan?
To chase this pal I want to keep -
And dive so deep! And dive so deep!