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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 2343 | 2020-07-12 18:22:16 | 74.03 | 96% |
| 1049 | 2019-11-05 08:07:01 | 55.96 | 94% |