Text race history for vulture (typinguntilcomputerdies)

Back to text analysis page

The withered leaves collect at my feet and the wind begins to moan. Memory, all alone in the moonlight. I can dream of the old days, life was beautiful then. I remember the time I knew what happiness was. Let the memory live again.

Game Time WPM Accuracy
1805 2023-06-04 17:16:41 116.40 99.6%
877 2022-08-13 03:27:49 112.61 99%