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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 6680 | 2019-11-03 02:36:17 | 176.14 | 100% |
| 6409 | 2019-05-30 21:53:35 | 149.94 | 97% |