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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 2365 | 2019-10-11 13:43:16 | 80.94 | 99% |
| 682 | 2018-08-16 16:54:53 | 66.73 | 98% |