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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 9097 | 2020-12-13 20:48:38 | 99.07 | 99% |
| 432 | 2019-10-04 18:23:00 | 63.70 | 96% |