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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 1989 | 2020-08-16 01:59:11 | 109.99 | 96% |
| 348 | 2020-06-27 09:43:28 | 129.94 | 99% |