Red paint manufacturers must be having a field day. Every week if not every day — we are confronted with slogans such as "From the river to the sea", "End the apartheid" and absurd comparisons being made between Israel and Nazi Germany, daubed in red paint, usually on white walls.

This proliferation of crimson isn’t because it is suddenly the colour of choice on every interior designer’s mood board, but because it screams: “Look at me! I’m not just angry, I’m really angry, and I want you to know about it!” Red evokes images of bloodied bodies and, splattered on white, is a sure-fire way of causing as much damage as possible – as well as a huge headache (and bill) for those left to clean up the mess.

On a sunny morning in May, dog-walkers in East Finchley were greeted with “Say no to artwashing” smeared along the walls of the iconic and much-loved Phoenix cinema – one of the oldest in London – in protest at the screening of a documentary about the Nova massacre, hosted by Seret, the Israeli film festival.

More recently, if you were popping into your local Barclays to cash a cheque, you may have found the outside of the building covered in red spray paint — and in case you missed the point, smashed windows too.

It’s been the same up and down the country for government buildings, town halls and historic university property – vandalised by cowards in the dead of night.

So, when, the other week, a photo of Abbey Road Studios — the birthplace of the best of British music – popped up on my phone, its low white boundary wall covered in ruby red, my heart sank.

And then it sank again. Instead of the usual anti-Israel mantras, were the names of the six hostages – Eden, Hersh, Carmel, Alexander, Almog and Ori — in large clumsy lettering; the six beautiful souls who were murdered nearly four weeks ago after 11 months in Hamas captivity.

The photo was applauded on WhatsApp groups, with plenty of thumbs up and heart-shaped emojis – the virtual equivalent of a standing ovation. I didn’t dare respond with a thumbs down.

Sorry if I am coming across all school ma’am here, but has it really come to this? That, to make our point heard, we have to deface a building which is as far removed from the hostage crisis as I am from the moon? A building revered by countless Beatles fans, who travel thousands of miles just to scrawl their own names, and maybe a line from a favourite song, in tiny letters on its garden wall, before re-enacting the famous walk across Abbey Road.

The aim may have been to commemorate the murdered hostages, but instead, the “artist” succeeded in misappropriating their names in the crudest of ways. Names of young people, most of whom (ironically) would have spent their last hours of freedom immersed in the unadulterated joy of music.

Did they truly believe that spray-painting the boundary wall of this beloved building would bring any comfort to the hostages’ families or attract more voices to the call to bring the remaining captives home?

I'm aware that my reaction might seem like an overreaction. A friend who is equally squeamish about graffiti said to me: "But people have always written on that wall", and besides, the wall is repainted every month.

Some will contend that as one of the most photographed buildings in London, it is absolutely the place to sloganeer about hostages – you’ve got to think virally these days. Others will say: “If they can paint ‘Free Palestine’ on Abbey Road Studios (which has also been done), why shouldn’t we write: ‘Free the hostages’?”

Since October 7, there has been a battle to reclaim the streets, not just by seeing which “side” can attract the largest numbers or shout the loudest through a megaphone, but by writing on the walls around us.

And who could argue with the extraordinarily evocative depictions of hostages we have seen by street artist Benzi Brofman in London’s neighbourhoods? Or with sticking up posters of peace activists, occupational therapists and teachers, imprisoned for nearly a year by terrorists? Only antisemites and/or the completely misguided.

But despite our deep pain, anger, and frustration that the rest of the world doesn’t seem to be listening to us, a line – this time a metaphorical one – has to be drawn somewhere.

So, as we approach the milestone we have all been dreading, we need to keep fighting the good fight – and we need to do it through just means.

Let’s continue to stand on the street with loudspeakers, calling for the release of the remaining 101 hostages, telling their stories and playing music to fill our souls with hope.

But shouting and screaming about it in red paint is unlikely to convince anyone to sign up to the cause, not least musicians arriving at Abbey Road Studios to record their latest album.

And the last thing any of us need are more ageing rockers joining the BDS movement.