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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 8007 | 2020-10-22 12:45:33 | 98.18 | 98% |
| 7688 | 2020-07-24 14:21:07 | 81.08 | 99% |