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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 12439 | 2019-09-27 18:15:22 | 99.42 | 99% |
| 10246 | 2019-01-08 21:37:54 | 95.26 | 99% |