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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 2251 | 2020-12-20 08:21:25 | 66.85 | 97% |
| 644 | 2020-09-20 10:37:19 | 61.89 | 97% |