Michael Bublé is a heterosexual man, and so comfortably so that his 2011 gender-flipped (sort of?) cover of "Santa Baby," the ultra flirtatious Christmas song popularized by the sultry Eartha Kitt, takes only extremely cool and extremely normal lyrical liberties. It's, platonically, "Santa Baby" for men, of course, platonically:
Santa baby, slip a Rolex under the treeFor meI've been an awful good guySanta buddy, and hurry down the chimney tonight
Rather than a sable fur coat (sexy), Michael Bublé asks Santa for a Rolex (not sexy).
Santa buddy, a '65 convertible tooSteel blueI'll wait up for you, dudeSanta buddy, and hurry down the chimney tonight
Michael Bublé will tolerate no light blue convertible. Only steel blue, the workingman's blue. Whether "I'll wait up for you, dude" is an invitation to sit with one empty seat between them at Buffalo Wild Wings or to be contract-killed remains artfully open-ended here.
Think of all the fun I've missedThink of all the hotties that I haven't kissedNext year I could be just as goodIf you check off my Christmas list
Men do be kissing hotties.
Santa pally, I want a yacht and really that's not a lotI've been a sweetie all yearSanta buddy, so hurry down the chimney tonight
Pally!
Santa buddy, one thing that I really do needThe deedTo a platinum mineSanta pally, so hurry down the chimney tonight
The rare and correctly unchanged wish. Asking for the deed to a platinum mine rules in its own bonkers, swaggering, gender-neutral way.
Santa buddy, fill my stocking with Canucks tixFor kicksThrow me on the first lineSanta baby, so hurry down the chimney tonight
Here we have swapped "a duplex and checks" for tickets to see the Vancouver Canucks! What man can resist the power of sports? This is surely not a more desirable gift than real estate and literal checks, but I asked Defector's resident hockey expert Lauren Theisen, who informed me that the Canucks are "a very likable team on their way up." OK. Fair enough. Hope he has fun at the game.
Come and trim my Christmas treeWith some decorations bought at MercedesI really do, believe in youNow let's see if you believe in me
Michael Bublé does not want decorations "bought at Tiffany's." Fine! But I do not think Mercedes sells Christmas tree decorations. They are more of a car business.
Santa poppy, forget to mention one little thingCha-chingNo I don't mean as a loanSanta buddy, so hurry down the chimney tonightHurry down the chimney tonightOh hurry down the chimney tonight
This—Bublé having now exhausted all conceivable terms of endearment (but not too much endearment, just like a normal amount)—is the end of the song. Our final total is: two babies, seven buddies, two pallies, and a poppy. A lesson: If you are not comfortable singing a song about seducing Santa Claus, a convenient option available to you is to not sing it at all.
