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 |
---|---|---|---|
28401 | 2018-12-11 19:37:52 | 58.89 | 99% |