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 |
---|---|---|---|
1921 | 2019-01-17 15:18:53 | 58.58 | 95% |
1088 | 2018-10-03 12:14:43 | 48.91 | 94% |