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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 1742 | 2019-04-13 18:20:23 | 73.69 | 97% |
| 1686 | 2019-02-16 17:35:45 | 66.93 | 96% |