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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 6860 | 2020-04-15 06:13:06 | 104.21 | 98% |
| 5002 | 2019-07-04 12:29:19 | 101.02 | 99% |