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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 10420 | 2018-02-12 11:16:19 | 60.33 | 97% |
| 10192 | 2018-01-01 07:00:18 | 57.21 | 97% |