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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 24427 | 2018-08-05 08:33:58 | 55.04 | 96% |
| 23859 | 2018-07-10 12:00:21 | 55.79 | 95% |