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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 2026 | 2020-09-29 14:02:02 | 88.24 | 97% |
| 723 | 2020-03-05 20:37:36 | 73.94 | 95% |