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Now young faces grow sad and old
and hearts of fire grow cold.
We swore blood brothers against the wind.
Now I'm ready to grow young again
and hear your sister's voice calling us home
across the open yards.
Well maybe we'll cut someplace of our own
with these drums and these guitars.
— (song)
by Bruce Springsteen
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| Language: | English |
This text has been typed
68 times:
| Avg. speed: | 122 WPM |
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| Avg. accuracy: | 98.9% |
Top 10 scores for this text
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| 1 | xanderec | 196 WPM | 100% | 173 | 1/2 | Aug 5, 2024 |
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| 2 | keegant | 188 WPM | 100% | 166 | 1/2 | Apr 4, 2025 |
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| 3 | nothisisjohn | 180 WPM | 100% | 159 | 1/2 | May 21, 2024 |
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| 4 | syrupsandwich | 171 WPM | 99% | 151 | 1/2 | Nov 27, 2024 |
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| 5 | veristun | 169 WPM | 100% | 150 | 1/2 | Apr 20, 2024 |
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| 7 | charlieog | 155 WPM | 99% | 137 | 1/2 | Sep 11, 2024 |
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| 8 | boundaries | 155 WPM | 99% | 137 | 1/2 | Jul 23, 2024 |
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| 9 | aaakribane131 | 140 WPM | 99% | 124 | 1/2 | Nov 28, 2024 |
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| 10 | mark40511 | 132 WPM | 100% | 117 | 1/2 | May 1, 2024 |
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