I’ve Had Enough (Into the Fire)
Theme: Fighting adversity, winning at all costs, and, because Gene Simmons is on board, making money at the expense of your humanity.
Key lyric: “Wishin’ and hopin’…Won’t get you nothin’…Prayin’ and schemin’…No time for dreamin’…I’ve got the power…This is the hour now.”
Misogyny Quotient: 2 – It can be assumed that women are not invited into a man’s dreams of world conquest, but at the same time, it’s just as likely that those who are lying and treating him like dirt wear skirts. A mixed bag.
Heaven’s On Fire
Theme: No anti-religious screed (sorry, PMRC), this is nothing more than a bird’s eye view of Paul Stanley’s throbbing, heat-seeking Hebrew National.
Key lyric: “Baby don’t stop, take it to the top, and eat it like a piece of cake.”
Misogyny Quotient: 8 – Women are whorish teases whose capacity for evil rivals the devil himself. And when you’re close to a woman – which could mean the bedroom or the same block – no words are to be exchanged, just heavy breathing and lukewarm ejaculate.
Burn Bitch Burn
Theme: Rape. Manly, justified, candlelight and kisses rape.
Key lyric: “Well it’s an act of thrust and any way you slice it…No sticks and stones, no kicks and groans can hide it.”
Misogyny Quotient: 10 – The babes are so in need of a good fucking that their very identity is irrelevant. Reduced to “a cut of pink,” they are, if the song’s image is to be believed, all waiting, asses in the air, for furry-chested Jews to break down their doors and pound them into oblivion.
Get All You Can Take
Theme: Get yours, no matter the cost. Pussy and money in equal measure. Maybe at the same time. Though a re-read makes me think they’re speaking out against country clubs that keep out the Jews.
Key lyric: “Don’t think about the race they’re runnin’, they’ll never let you in…With all the rules, it’s a race of fools, and you can never win.”
Misogyny Quotient: 2 – Without any real allusion to a band member’s member, it’s hard to imagine this is anything other than a pitch to self-righteous teenagers who feel excluded from life. Because virgins need guidance from aging rockers with the clap.
Lonely is the Hunter
Theme: The misunderstood lothario. The vanquished Don Juan. The flaccid seducer. The one woman who didn’t bend to Gene’s will and made him fall in love.
Key lyric: “Asked her for a refill, she flew off my face…She’s a legendary figure, kept me in a cage.”
Misogyny Quotient: 9 – “Women love money, like bees the honey.” Cute, coming from Mr. Simmons, but no less accurate. And don’t ever, ever pour your heart out to a dame. She’ll use it against you and grind away your manhood.
Under the Gun
Theme: I’m so crazy, there’s no telling what I might do. Rest assured, though, it involves eating pussy.
Key lyric: “Well there’s no speed limit where I’m comin’ from…Let’s hit the highway doin’ 69!”
Misogyny Quotient: 7 – Every now and then, men like to get a little wild. They go off half-cocked. Just stand out of their way and let them do their business. And leave the panties at home.
Thrills in the Night
Theme: Sure, women are in the workplace now, but they’re still whores. Just wait until they clock out.
Key lyric: “In the evening when she takes to the street…She goes hunting with a body in heat.”
Misogyny Quotient: 10 – The lyrics could not be clearer. Wherever women tie up their hair in buns, there are quivering thighs in need of a man. A big man; a Cher-like Jewish man.
Broads put up a respectable front for civilized society, but they need to be fucked back into their proper place.
While the City Sleeps
Theme: Jesus Christ, I work hard all day, so why you all up in my business? Her? What about her? Whore.
Key lyric: “For better or worse, you bought and sold…They love you while you’re hot and leave you when you’re cold.”
Misogyny Quotient: 7 – In a deeper, more personal turn, Gene and Paul lament the lean years when women actually said no because of lackluster album sales. Creatures of the Night just didn’t spread the pussy like Alive II.
Murder in High Heels
Theme: Never trust a bitch in leather. Ever.
Key lyric: “She ain’t the girl next door worth waitin’ for…Well you’re playin’ with the fire, a pool of sweat’s lyin’ on the floor.”
Misogyny Quotient: 9 – For every blowjob, there’s a risk of homicide. But only after they take your money. There’s a consolation at least: she’ll bare her chest as you’re being lowered into the cold earth.