Step out the front door like a ghost into the fog where no one notices the contrast of white on white. And in between the moon and you the angels get a better view of the crumbling difference between wrong and right. I walk in the air between the rain through myself and back again. Where? I don't know.
Game | Time | WPM | Accuracy |
---|---|---|---|
8 | 2009-06-10 18:42:15 | 82.50 |