Escrita por Mark Knopfler, foi gravada entre março e junho de 1982 e lançada em 24 de setembro de 1982, no disco Love over gold, o quarto disco da banda. Foi produzida por Mark Knopfler. Telegraph Road é uma rodovia norte-sul no estado de Michigan, com 110 kms de extensão. Mark Knopfler se inspirou nela enquanto em uma turnê. Foi a última canção gravada por Pick Withers na bateria. Depois ele foi substituído por Terry Williams. Mark Knopfler cantou, tocou guitarra e uma resonator guitar. John Illsley tocou baixo. Hal Lindes tocou guitarra. Alan Clark tocou piano, órgão e sintetizadores. Pick Withers tocou bateria.
A letra:
A long time ago
came a man on a track
Walking thirty miles with a sack on his
back
And he put down his load where he thought it was the best
He
made a home in the wilderness
He built a cabin and a winter store
And
he ploughed up the ground by the cold lake shore
And the other
travellers came walking down the track
And they never went
further, no, they never went back
Then came the churches, then came the
schools
Then came the lawyers, then came the rules
Then came
the trains and the trucks with their loads
And the dirty old track
was the Telegraph Road
Then came the mines, then came the
ore
Then there was the hard times, then there was a war
Telegraph
sang a song about the world outside
Telegraph Road got so deep and
so wide
Like a rolling river
And my radio says tonight it's gonna
freeze
People driving home from the factories
There's six lanes
of traffic
Three lanes moving slow
I used to like to go to work, but they
shut it down
I've got a right to go to work, but there's no work
here to be found
Yes, and they say we're gonna have to pay what's
owed
We're gonna have to reap from some seed that's been sowed
And the birds up on the wires and the
telegraph poles
They can always fly away from this rain and this
cold
You can hear them singing out their telegraph code
All the
way down the Telegraph Road
Well, I'd sooner forget, but I remember
those nights
Yeah, life was just a bet on a race between the
lights
You had your head on my shoulder, you had your hand in my
hair
Now you act a little colder like you don't seem to care
But just believe in me, baby, and I'll
take you away
From out of this darkness and into the day
From
these rivers of headlights, these rivers of rain
From the anger
that lives on the streets with these names
'Cause I've run every
red light on memory lane
I've seen desperation explode into
flames
And I don't want to see it again
From all of these signs saying, "Sorry,
but we're closed"
All the way
Down the Telegraph Road
A versão do Dire Straits:
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A versão de Mark Knopfler:
