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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 17565 | 2019-09-01 11:57:38 | 156.62 | 100% |
| 16987 | 2019-03-26 10:38:21 | 136.01 | 98% |