The wind blows hard in December. Our last fight, do you remember? Counting the days since we left. You and I, slipping away. The days gone by when you loved me. No way, the way you now treat me. Pouring wine into my glass. Looking back to where we were. There's no direction for us. Here it comes, the endless fight.
| Game | Time | WPM | Accuracy |
|---|---|---|---|
| 1000452 | 2024-01-19 14:47:02 | 156.46 | 98.1% |