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Starry, starry night, portraits hung in empty halls, frameless heads on nameless walls with eyes that watch the world and can't forget, like the strangers that you've met. The ragged men in ragged clothes, the silver thorn, a bloody rose lie crushed and broken on the virgin snow.
— (song)
by Don McLean
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| Language: | English |
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| Avg. speed: | 60 WPM |
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| Avg. accuracy: | 96% |
Top 10 scores for this text
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| 1 | joshua728 | 228 WPM | 100% | 182 | 1/2 | Sep 10, 2023 |
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| 2 | slekap | 211 WPM | 100% | 169 | 1/2 | Sep 27, 2024 |
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| 3 | concentratezabbibi | 203 WPM | 99% | 163 | 1/3 | Sep 27, 2024 |
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| 4 | volhosis | 201 WPM | 100% | 161 | 1/1 | May 17, 2024 |
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| 5 | flaneur | 191 WPM | 100% | 153 | 1/2 | Sep 4, 2023 |
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| 6 | xanderec | 190 WPM | 99% | 152 | 1/2 | Mar 25, 2025 |
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| 7 | helloimnotgood1 | 188 WPM | 99% | 151 | 1/2 | Feb 28, 2024 |
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| 8 | iamslow103 | 182 WPM | 100% | 146 | 1/2 | Sep 18, 2023 |
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| 9 | mth_quitless | 182 WPM | 99% | 146 | 1/3 | May 30, 2024 |
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| 10 | oatzs | 179 WPM | 99% | 143 | 1/4 | Aug 22, 2023 |
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