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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 2154 | 2019-02-04 13:43:20 | 87.98 | 98% |
| 783 | 2018-06-01 11:51:58 | 70.50 | 96% |