Give me your tired, your poor, your huddled masses yearning to breathe free, the wretched refuse of your teeming shore. Send these, the homeless, tempest-tost to me, I lift my lamp beside the golden door!
| Game | Time | WPM | Accuracy |
|---|---|---|---|
| 15914 | 2019-05-02 20:43:13 | 101.41 | 97% |
| 12910 | 2018-09-22 16:37:52 | 87.57 | 96% |