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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 1665 | 2020-04-22 19:17:32 | 62.49 | 97% |
| 1354 | 2020-04-05 08:52:48 | 61.40 | 96% |