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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 1784 | 2020-08-30 20:45:54 | 89.46 | 99% |
| 86 | 2020-08-11 10:40:17 | 82.07 | 97% |