… like your hollow heart is hanging in the wind. Your black lungs can’t breathe. 

I share my second in command’s distress that Augustines are calling it a day. And I should stress that she’s extremely distressed. 

Come on lads, don’t leave it there, you’ve a massive following. You’re milimetres away from making it. You’re lovely people who understand engagement. 

You bother to talk to people; Rob in Newcastle years ago at the Riverside, then Mr McCarthy on his solo tour – you hugged my second in command (at the Cluny) who’d walked 17 miles on crutches, with a broken leg, to see you. 

And, now, we’ve seen you play in Sheffield a couple of days ago. Then, last night at home in Newcastle. We were at the front, we drank little beer because we didn’t want to leave to pee. 

And, remember Louis Theroux? He’s in a band, plays guitar. That’s not his real name, of course, but he loves you. I’m sure his band, who are pretty damn good, would tour for free. 

Anyway, please don’t call it a day. Move to the UK, it’s the best place to get a solid fan base (you’re half way there). Just think, you’ve nothing to lose but your head(s).