The withered leaves collect at my feet and the wind begins to moan. Memory, all alone in the moonlight. I can dream of the old days, life was beautiful then. I remember the time I knew what happiness was. Let the memory live again.
| Game | Time | WPM | Accuracy |
|---|---|---|---|
| 21912 | 2018-12-26 02:24:53 | 77.64 | 98% |
| 21850 | 2018-12-26 00:50:48 | 77.50 | 98% |
| 19356 | 2018-02-27 02:14:36 | 77.27 | 99% |