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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 7026 | 2018-06-17 17:09:12 | 56.43 | 100% |
| 6275 | 2018-04-28 19:28:12 | 51.19 | 100% |