Then an herald cried aloud, To you it is commanded , O people, nations, and languages, 5. That at what ever time ye hear the sound of the cornet, flute , harp, sackbut, psaltery, dulcimer, and all kinds of music, Ye must fall down and worship the Golden Image that Nebuchadnezzar the king hath set up. And whoso falleth not down and worshippeth , shall in the same hour be cast into the midst of a burning fiery furnace. This question perplexed me for several months, until one day when I was watching a Rock Concert on the television. There were thousands of people all standing on their seats in excitement.
Men sing about whatever they wish to honor.
They sing the National Anthem to honor their country. They sing about the kind of people that they think should be admired. They will even sing the praises of ruthless ambition and flagrant immorality, in order to glorify and dignify their own sins. The purpose of all music is to praise, honor, or dignify whatever the music is about. Poetry is the same.