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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 5143 | 2018-10-08 13:23:58 | 80.38 | 97% |
| 3374 | 2017-12-27 21:37:26 | 71.63 | 95% |