Text race history for Jason (type_words)

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The withered leaves collect at my feet and the wind begins to moan. Memory, all alone in the moonlight. I can dream of the old days, life was beautiful then. I remember the time I knew what happiness was. Let the memory live again.

Game Time WPM Accuracy
634 2021-01-20 17:23:04 100.90 99%
582 2021-01-18 17:19:14 79.15 96%