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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 5216 | 2018-05-25 22:38:02 | 49.99 | 95% |
| 3347 | 2018-05-02 17:24:14 | 47.22 | 98% |