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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 2817 | 2020-10-14 20:34:06 | 94.02 | 98% |
| 2606 | 2020-05-03 06:19:53 | 76.17 | 97% |