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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 2070 | 2019-06-06 18:46:02 | 84.06 | 98% |
| 165 | 2019-04-28 12:54:22 | 63.57 | 96% |