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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 19405 | 2018-12-25 06:40:13 | 129.75 | 97% |
| 18101 | 2018-09-27 09:14:33 | 101.33 | 95% |