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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 5674 | 2018-12-28 00:04:59 | 61.25 | 94% |
| 635 | 2018-04-13 17:10:00 | 58.09 | 97% |