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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 61908 | 2018-01-24 23:12:09 | 156.11 | 100% |
| 56932 | 2017-12-23 14:17:00 | 147.19 | 99% |