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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 44730 | 2018-01-26 14:43:02 | 119.32 | 97% |
| 43383 | 2018-01-15 21:44:32 | 135.16 | 98% |