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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 1562 | 2020-10-26 19:54:54 | 86.97 | 97% |
| 240 | 2020-09-09 05:06:42 | 65.80 | 96% |