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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 3950 | 2019-08-03 17:04:56 | 83.07 | 97% |
| 2170 | 2018-09-13 18:44:55 | 81.03 | 95% |