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 |
---|---|---|---|
6100 | 2020-03-16 04:41:11 | 63.21 | 95% |
3912 | 2019-11-09 13:44:53 | 60.49 | 95% |